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2695 

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LIBRARY 

UNIVERSITY  OF 
CALIFORNIA 
SANTA  CRUZ 


0\ 


These  stories  are  taken  from  Mr. 
Remington's  books,  Crooked  Trails 
and  Pony  Tracks,  published  by  Harper 
&  Brothers. 


TRYING   MOMENTS 


STORIES   OF 
PEACE  AND  WAR 

By 

Frederic  Remington 


NEW     YORK     AND     LONDON 

HARPER    &*    BROTHERS 
MDCCCXCI x 


Copyright,  1895,  1898,  1899,  by   HARPER  &    BROTHERS. 

All  rights  reserved. 


ps 


•si 


THE   STRANGE   DAYS   THAT 
CAME  TO  JIMMIE  FRIDAY 


Ube  Strange  2>ai?s  tbat  Game  to 
Jimmie 


THE  "  Abwee-chemun  "*  Club 
was  organized  with  six  charter  mem- 
bers at  a  heavy  lunch  in  the  Savarin 
restaurant  —  one  of  those  lunches 
which  make  through  connections  to 
dinner  without  change.  One  mem- 
ber basely  deserted,  while  two  more 
lost  all  their  enthusiasm  on  the  fol- 
lowing morning,  but  three  of  us 
stuck.  We  vaguely  knew  that  some- 
where north  of  the  Canadian  Pacific 
and  south  of  Hudson  Bay  were  big 
lakes  and  rapid  rivers  —  lakes  whose 
names  we  did  not  know  ;  lakes  bigger 
than  Champlain,with  unnamed  rivers 
between  them.  We  did  not  propose 

*  Algonquin  for  "  paddle  and  canoe." 


THE   STRANGE  DAYS 

to  be  boated  around  in  a  big  birch- 
bark  by  two  voyagers  among  blan- 
kets and  crackers  and  ham,  but  each 
provided  himself  a  little  thirteen- 
foot  cedar  canoe,  twenty-nine  inches 
in  the  beam,  and  weighing  less  than 
forty  pounds.  I  cannot  tell  you 
precisely  how  our  party  was  sorted, 
but  one  was  a  lawyer  with  eye- 
glasses and  settled  habits,  loving 
nature,  though  detesting  canoes; 
the  other  was  nominally  a  merchant, 
but  in  reality  an  atavic  Norseman 
of  the  wolf  and  raven  kind ;  while  I 
am  not  new.  Together  we  started. 
Presently  the  Abwees  sat  about 
the  board  of  a  lumbermen's  hotel, 
rilled  with  house-flies  and  slatternly 
waiter-girls,  who  talked  familiarly 
while  they  served  greasy  food.  The 
Abwees  were  yet  sore  in  their  minds 
at  the  thoughts  of  the  smelly  beds 
upstairs,  and  discouragement  sat 
deeply  on  their  souls.  But  their 
time  was  not  yet. 

4 


THA  T  CAME  TO  JIMMIE  FRIDA  Y 

After  breakfast  they  marched  to  the 
Hudson  Bay  Company's  store,  know- 
ing as  they  did  that  in  Canada  there 
are  only  two  places  for  a  traveller  to 
go  who  wants  anything — the  great 
company  or  the  parish  priest;  and 
then,  having  explained  to  the  factor 
their  dream,  they  were  told  "  that  be- 
yond, beyond  some  days'  journey  " 
— oh !  that  awful  beyond,  which  for 
centuries  has  stood  across  the  path  of 
the  pioneer,  and  in  these  latter  days 
confronts  the  sportsman  and  wil- 
derness lover — "  that  beyond  some 
days'  journey  to  the  north  was  a 
country  such  as  they  had  dreamed 
— up  Temiscamingue  and  beyond/' 

The  subject  of  a  guide  was  con- 
sidered. 

Jimmie  Friday  always  brought  a 
big  toboggan-load  of  furs  into  Fort 
Tiemogamie  every  spring,  and  was 
accounted  good  in  his  business.  He 
and  his  big  brother  trapped  together, 
and  in  turn  followed  the  ten  days' 

5 


THE   STRANGE  DAYS 

swing  through  the  snow-laden  forest 
which  they  had  covered  with  their 
dead-falls  and  steel-jawed  traps ;  but 
when  the  ice  went  out  in  the  rivers, 
and  the  great  pines  dripped  with  the 
melting  snows,  they  had  nothing 
more  to  do  but  cut  a  few  cords  of 
wood  for  their  widowed  mother's 
cabin  near  the  post.  Then  the 
brother  and  he  paddled  down  to 
Bais  des  Pierres,  where  the  brother 
engaged  as  a  deck  hand  on  a  steam- 
boat, and  Jimmie  hired  himself  as  a 
guide  for  some  bushrangers,  as  the 
men  are  called  who  explore  for  pine 
lands  for  the  great  lumber  firms. 
Having  worked  all  summer  and  got 
through  with  that  business,  Jimmie 
bethought  him  to  dissipate  for  a  few 
days  in  the  bustling  lumber  town 
down  on  the  Ottawa  River.  He 
had  been  there  before  to  feel  the 
exhilaration  of  civilization,  but  be- 
yond that  clearing  he  had  never 
known  anything  more  inspiring  than 
6 


THA  T  CAME  TO  JIMMIE  FRIDA  Y 

a  Hudson  Bay  post,  which  is  gener- 
ally a  log  store,  a  house  where  the 
agent  lives,  and  a  few  tiny  Indian 
cabins  set  higgledy-piggledy  in  a 
sunburnt  gash  of  stumps  and  bowl- 
ders, lost  in  the  middle  of  the 
solemn,  unresponsive  forest.  On 
this  morning  in  question  he  had 
stepped  from  his  friend's  cabin  up 
in  the  Indian  village,  and  after  light- 
ing a  perfectly  round  and  rather 
yellow  cigar,  he  had  instinctively 
wandered  down  to  the  Hudson  Bay 
store,  there  to  find  himself  amused 
by  a  strange  sight. 

The  Abwees  had  hired  two  French- 
Indian  voyagers  of  sinister  mien,  and 
a  Scotch-Canadian  boy  bred  to  the 
bush.  They  were  out  on  the  grass, 
engaged  in  taking  burlaps  off  three 
highly  polished  canoes,  while  the 
clerk  from  the  store  ran  out  and 
asked  questions  about  "  how  much 
bacon/'  and  "'  will  fifty  pounds  of 
pork  be  enough,  sir  ?  " 


THE   STRANGE  DAYS 

The  round  yellow  cigar  was  get- 
ting stubby,  while  Jimmie's  modest 
eyes  sought  out  the  points  of  in- 
terest in  the  new-comers,  when  he 
was  suddenly  and  sharply  addressed  : 

"  Can  you  cook  ?  " 

Jimmie  could  n't  do  anything  in  a 
hurry,  except  chop  a  log  in  two, 
paddle  very  fast,  and  shoot  quickly, 
so  he  said,  as  was  his  wont, 

"  I  think— I  dun'no'—  " 

"  Well— how  much  ?  "  came  the 
query. 

*  Two  daul — ars —  "  said  Jimmie. 

The  transaction  was  complete. 
The  yellow  butt  went  over  the 
fence,  and  Jimmie  shed  his  coat. 
He  was  directed  to  lend  a  hand  by 
the  bustling  sportsmen,  and  re- 
quested to  run  and  find  things  of 
which  he  had  never  before  in  his  life 
heard  the  name. 

After  two  days'  travel  the  Abwees 
were  put  ashore — boxes,  bags,  rolls 
of  blankets,  canoes,  Indians,  and 


THA  T  CAME  TO  JIMMIE  FRIDA  Y 

plunder  of  many  sorts — on  a  pebbly 
beach,  and  the  steamer  backed  off 
and  steamed  away.  They  had 
reached  the  "  beyond  "  at  last,  and 
the  odoriferous  little  bedrooms,  the 
bustle  of  the  preparation,  the  cares 
of  their  lives,  were  behind.  Then 
there  was  a  girding  up  of  the  loins, 
a  getting  out  of  tump-lines  and  can- 
vas packs,  and  the  long  portage  was 
begun. 

The  voyagers  carried  each  two 
hundred  pounds  as  they  stalked 
away  into  the  wilderness,  while  the 
attorney -at-law  "  hefted  "  his  pack, 
wiped  his  eye-glasses  with  his  pocket- 
handkerchief,  and  tried  cheerfully  to 
assume  the  responsibilities  of  "  a 
dead  game  sport.*' 

"  I  cannot  lift  the  thing,  and  how 
I  am  going  to  carry  it  is  more  than 
I  know ;  but  I  'm  a  dead  game  sport, 
and  I  am  going  to  try.  I  do  not 
want  to  be  dead  game,  but  it  looks 
as  though  I  could  n't  help  it.  Will 


THE   STRANGE  DAYS 

some  gentleman  help  me  to  adjust 
this  cargo  ?  " 

The  night  overtook  the  outfit  in  an 
old  beaver  meadow  half-way  through 
the  trail.  Like  all  first  camps,  it  was 
tough.  The  lean-to  tents  went  up 
awkwardly.  No  one  could  find  any- 
thing. Late  at  night  the  Abwees 
lay  on  their  backs  under  the  blan- 
kets, while  the  fog  settled  over  the 
meadow  and  blotted  out  the  stars. 

On  the  following  day  the  stuff  was 
all  gotten  through,  and  by  this  time 
the  lawyer  had  become  a  voyager, 
willing  to  carry  anything  he  could 
stagger  under.  It  is  strange  how 
one  can  accustom  himself  to  *  *  pack. ' ' 
He  may  never  use  the  tump-line, 
since  it  goes  across  the  head,  and 
will  unseat  his  intellect  if  he  does, 
but  with  shoulder-straps  and  a  tump- 
line  a  man  who  thinks  he  is  not  strong 
will  simply  amaze  himself  inside  of  a 
week  by  what  he  can  do.  As  for  our 
little  canoes,  we  could  trot  with 
10 


THA  T  CAME  TO  JIMMIE  FRIDA  Y 

them.  Each  Abwee  carried  his  own 
belongings  and  his  boat,  which  en- 
titled him  to  the  distinction  of  "  a 
dead  game  sport,"  whatever  that 
may  mean,  while  the  Indians  por- 
taged their  larger  canoes  and  our 
mass  of  supplies,  making  many  trips 
backward  and  forward  in  the  process. 
At  the  river  everything  was  par- 
celled out  and  arranged.  The  birch- 
barks  were  repitched,  and  every  man 
found  out  what  he  was  expected  to 
portage  and  do  about  camp.  After 
breaking  and  making  camp  three 
times,  the  outfit  could  pack  up,  load 
the  canoes,  and  move  inside  of  fif- 
teen minutes.  At  the  first  camp  the 
lawyer  essayed  his  canoe,  and  was 
cautioned  that  the  delicate  thing 
might  flirt  with  him.  He  stepped 
in  and  sat  gracefully  down  in  about 
two  feet  of  water,  while  the  "  deli- 
cate thing  "  shook  herself  saucily  at 
his  side.  After  he  had  crawled  drip- 
ping ashore  and  wiped  his  eye-glasses, 
ii 


THE   STRANGE  DAYS 

he  engaged  to  sell  the  "  delicate 
thing  "  to  an  Indian  for  one  dollar 
and  a  half  on  a  promissory  note. 
The  trade  was  suppressed,  and  he 
was  urged  to  try  again.  A  man 
who  has  held  down  a  cane-bottom 
chair  conscientiously  for  fifteen  years 
looks  askance  at  so  fickle  a  thing  as 
a  canoe  twenty-nine  inches  in  the 
beam.  They  are  nearly  as  hard  to 
sit  on  in  the  water  as  a  cork  ;  but 
once  one  is  in  the  bottom  they  are 
stable  enough,  though  they  do  not 
submit  to  liberties  or  palsied  move- 
ments. The  staid  lawyer  was  filled 
with  horror  at  the  prospect  of  an- 
other go  at  his  polished  beauty ;  but 
remembering  his  resolve  to  be  dead 
game,  he  abandoned  his  life  to  the 
chances,  and  got  in  this  time  safely. 
So  the  Abwees  went  down  the 
river  on  a  golden  morning,  their 
double-blade  paddles  flashing  in  the 
sun  and  sending  the  drip  in  a  shower 
on  the  glassy  water.  The  smoke 

12 


THA  T  CAME  TO  JIMMIE  FRIDA  Y 

from  the  lawyer's  pipe  hung  behind 
him  in  the  quiet  air,  while  the  note 
of  the  reveille  clangored  from  the 
little  buglette  of  the  Norseman. 
Jimmie  and  the  big  Scotch  back- 
woodsman swayed  their  bodies  in 
one  boat,  while  the  two  sinister  voy- 
agers dipped  their  paddles  in  the 
big  canoe. 

The  Norseman's  gorge  came  up, 
and  he  yelled  back:  "  Say!  this 
suits  me.  I  am  never  going  back  to 
New  York/' 

Jimmie  grinned  at  the  noise;  it 
made  him  happy.  Such  a  morning, 
such  a  water,  such  a  lack  of  anything 
to  disturb  one's  peace!  Let  man's 
better  nature  revel  in  the  beauties  of 
existence ;  they  inflate  his  soul.  The 
colors  play  upon  the  senses  —  the 
reddish-yellow  of  the  birch-barks, 
the  blue  of  the  water,  and  the  sil- 
ver sheen  as  it  parts  at  the  bows  of 
the  canoes;  the  dark  evergreens, 
the  steely  rocks  with  their  lichens, 

13 


THE   STRANGE  DAYS 

the  white  trunks  of  the  birches, 
their  fluffy  tops  so  greeny  green,  and 
over  all  the  gold  of  a  sunny  day.  It 
is  my  religion,  this  thing,  and  I  do 
not  know  how  to  tell  all  I  feel  con- 
cerning it. 

The  rods  were  taken  out,  a  gang 
of  flies  put  on  and  trolled  behind — 
but  we  have  all  seen  a  man  fight  a 
five-pound  bass  for  twenty  minutes. 
The  waters  fairly  swarmed  with 
them,  and  we  could  always  get 
enough  for  the  "  pot  "  in  a  half- 
hour's  fishing  at  any  time  during 
the  trip.  The  Abwees  were  canoe- 
ing, not  hunting  or  fishing;  though, 
in  truth,  they  did  not  need  to  hunt 
spruce-partridge  or  fish  for  bass  in 
any  sporting  sense;  they  simply 
went  out  after  them,  and  never 
stayed  over  half  an  hour.  On  a 
point  we  stopped  for  lunch:  the 
Scotchman  always  struck  the  beach 
a-cooking.  He  had  a  "  kit  "  which 
was  a  big  camp-pail,  and  inside  of  it 


THA  T  CAME  TO  JIMMIE  FRIDA  Y 

were  more  dishes  than  are  to  be 
found  in  some  hotels.  He  broiled 
the  bacon,  instead  of  frying  it,  and 
thus  we  were  saved  the  terrors  of  in- 
digestion. He  had  many  luxuries 
in  his  commissary,  among  them 
dried  apples,  with  which  he  filled  a 
camp-pail  one  day  and  put  them  on 
to  boil.  They  subsequently  got  to 
be  about  a  foot  deep  all  over  the 
camp,  while  Furguson  stood  around 
and  regarded  the  black-magic  of  the 
thing  with  overpowering  emotions 
and  Homeric  tongue.  Furguson  was 
a  good  genius,  big  and  gentle,  and  a 
woodsman  root  and  branch.  The 
Abwees  had  intended  their  days  in 
the  wilderness  to  be  happy  singing 
flights  of  time,  but  with  grease  and 
paste  in  one's  stomach  what  may 
not  befall  the  mind  when  it  is  bent 
on  nature's  doings  ? 

And  thus  it  was  that  the  gloomy 
Indian  Jimmie  Friday,  despite  his 
tuberculosis  begotten  of  insufficient 

15 


THE  STRANGE  DAYS 

nourishment,  was  happy  in  these 
strange  days — even  to  the  extent  of 
looking  with  wondrous  eyes  on  the 
nooks  which  we  loved — nooks  which 
previously  for  him  had  only  sheltered 
possible  "  dead-falls  "  or  not,  as  the 
discerning  eye  of  the  trapper  decided 
the  prospects  for  pelf. 

Going  ashore  on  a  sandy  beach, 
Jimmie  wandered  down  its  length, 
his  hunter  mind  seeking  out  the 
footprints  of  his  prey.  He  stooped 
down,  and  then  beckoned  me  to 
come,  which  I  did. 

Pointing  at  the  sand,  he  said, 
"  You  know  him  ?  " 

*  Wolves,"  I  answered. 

"  Yes — first  time  I  see  'em  up 
here — they  be  follerin'  the  deers — 
bad — bad.  No  can  trap  'em — verrie 
smart." 

A  half-dozen  wolves  had  chased  a 

deer  into  the  water;  but  wolves  do 

not  take  to  the  water,  so  they  had 

stopped  and  drank,  and  then  gone 

16 


THAT  CAME  TO  JIM  MI E  FRIDAY 

rollicking  together  up  the  beach. 
There  were  cubs,  and  one  great  track 
as  big  as  a  mastiff  might  make. 

"  See  that — moose  track — he  go 
by  yesterday  "  ;  and  Jimmie  pointed 
to  enormous  footprints  in  the  muck 
of  a  marshy  place.  *  Verrie  big 
moose — we  make  call  at  next  camp 
— think  it  is  early  for  call/* 

At  the  next  camp  Jimmie  made 
the  usual  birch-bark  moose-call,  and 
at  evening  blew  it,  as  he  also  did  on 
the  following  morning.  This  camp 
was  a  divine  spot  on  a  rise  back  of  a 
long  sandy  beach,  and  we  concluded 
to  stop  for  a  day.  The  Norseman 
and  I  each  took  a  man  in  our  canoes 
and  started  out  to  explore.  I  wanted 
to  observe  some  musk-rat  hotels 
down  in  a  big  marsh,  and  the  Norse- 
man was  fishing.  The  attorney  was 
content  to  sit  on  a  log  by  the  shores 
of  the  lake,  smoke  lazily,  and  watch 
the  sun  shimmer  through  the  lifting 
fog.  He  saw  a  canoe  approaching 


THE   STRANGE  DAYS 

from  across  the  lake.  He  gazed 
vacantly  at  it,  when  it  grew  strange 
and  more  unlike  a  canoe.  The  pad- 
dles did  not  move,  but  the  phantom 
craft  drew  quickly  on. 

"  Say,  Furguson  —  come  here — 
look  at  that  canoe." 

The  Scotchman  came  down,  with 
a  pail  in  one  hand,  and  looked. 
"  Canoe — hell — it  's  a  moose — and 
there  ain't  a  pocket-pistol  in  this 
camp/'  and  he  fairly  jumped  up  and 
down. 

"  You  don't  say — you  really  don't 
say!  "  gasped  the  lawyer,  who  now 
began  to  exhibit  signs  of  insanity. 

"  Yes — he  's  going  to  be  d d 

sociable  with  us — he  's  coming  right 
bang  into  this  camp. ' ' 

The  Indian  too  came  down,  but 
he  was  long  past  talking  English, 
and  the  gutturals  came  up  in  lumps, 
as  though  he  was  trying  to  keep 
them  down. 

The  moose  finally  struck  a  long 
18 


THA  T  CAME  TO  JIMMIE   FRIDA  Y 

point  of  sand  and  rushes  about  two 
hundred  yards  away,  and  drew  ma- 
jestically out  of  the  water,  his  hide 
dripping,  and  the  sun  glistening  on 
his  antlers  and  back. 

The  three  men  gazed  in  spellbound 
admiration  at  the  picture  until  the 
moose  was  gone.  When  they  had 
recovered  their  senses  they  slowly 
went  up  to  the  camp  on  the  ridge — 
disgusted  and  dumfounded. 

"  I  could  almost  put  a  cartridge  in 
that  old  gun-case  and  kill  him," 
sighed  the  backwoodsman. 

"  I  have  never  hunted  in  my  life," 
mused  the  attorney,  "  but  few  men 
have  seen  such  a  sight,"  and  he  filled 
his  pipe. 

"  Hark — listen!  "  said  the  Indian. 
There  was  a  faint  cracking,  which 
presently  became  louder.  '  He  's 
coming  into  camp  "  ;  and  the  Indian 
nearly  died  from  excitement  as  he 
grabbed  a  hatchet.  The  three  un- 
fortunate men  stepped  to  the  back 

19 


THE   STRANGE  DAYS 

of  the  tents,  and  as  big  a  bull  moose 
as  walks  the  lonely  woods  came  up 
to  within  one  hundred  and  fifty  feet 
of  the  camp,  and  stopped,  returning 
their  gaze. 

Thus  they  stood  for  what  they  say 
was  a  minute,  but  which  seemed  like 
hours.  The  attorney  composedly 
admired  the  unusual  sight.  The  In- 
dian and  Furguson  swore  softly  but 
most  viciously  until  the  moose 
moved  away.  The  Indian  hurled 
the  hatchet  at  the  retreating  figure, 
with  a  final  curse,  and  the  thing  was 
over. 

'  Those  fellows  who  are  out  in 
their  canoes  will  be  sick  abed  when 
we  tell  them  what  's  been  going  on 
in  the  camp  this  morning/'  sighed 
Mr.  Furguson,  as  he  scoured  a  cook- 
ing-pot. 

I  fear  we  would  have  had  that 
moose  on  our  consciences  if  we 
had  been  there:  the  game  law  was 
not  up  at  the  time,  but  I  should 

20 


THA  T  CAME  TO  JIMMIE  FRIDA  Y 

have  asked  for  strength  from  a 
higher  source  than  my  respect  for 
law. 

The  golden  days  passed  and  the 
lake  grew  great.  The  wind  blew  at 
our  backs.  The  waves  rolled  in  rest- 
less surges,  piling  the  little  canoes  on 
their  crests  and  swallowing  them  in 
the  troughs.  The  canoes  thrashed 
the  water  as  they  flew  along,  half  in, 
half  out,  but  they  rode  like  ducks. 
The  Abwees  took  off  their  hats, 
gripped  their  double  blades,  made 
the  water  swirl  behind  them,  howled 
in  glee  to  each  other  through  the 
rushing  storm.  To  be  five  miles 
from  shore  in  a  seaway  in  kayaks  like 
ours  was  a  sensation.  We  found 
they  stood  it  well,  and  grew  con- 
tented. It  was  the  complement  to 
the  golden  lazy  days  when  the  water 
was  glass,  and  the  canoes  rode  up- 
side down  over  its  mirror  surface. 
The  Norseman  grinned  and  shook 
his  head  in  token  of  his  pleasure, 
21 


THE   STRANGE  DAYS 

much  as  an  epicure  might  after  a  sip 
of  superior  Burgundy. 

"  How  do  you  fancy  this  ?  "  we 
asked  the  attorn  ey-at-law. 

"  I  am  not  going  to  deliver  an 
opinion  until  I  get  ashore.  I  would 
never  have  believed  that  I  would  be 
here  at  my  time  of  life,  but  one 

never  knows  what  a  fool  one 

can  make  of  one's  self.  My  glasses 
are  covered  with  water,  and  I  can 
hardly  see,  but  I  can't  let  go  of  this 
paddle  to  wipe  them/'  shrieked  the 
man  of  the  office  chair,  in  the  howl 
of  the  weather. 

But  we  made  a  long  journey  by 
the  aid  of  the  wind,  and  grew  a  con- 
tempt for  it.  How  could  one  im- 
agine the  stability  of  those  little 
boats  until  one  had  tried  it  ? 

That  night  we  put  into  a  natural 
harbor  and  camped  on  a  gravel 
beach.  The  tents  were  up  and  the 
supper  cooking,  when  the  wind 
hauled  and  blew  furiously  into  our 

22 


THA  T  CAME  TO  JIMMIE  FRIDA  Y 

haven.  The  fires  were  scattered 
and  the  rain  came  in  blinding  sheets. 
The  tent-pegs  pulled  from  the  sand. 
We  sprang  to  our  feet  and  held  on  to 
the  poles,  wet  to  the  skin.  It  was 
useless;  the  rain  blew  right  under 
the  canvas.  We  laid  the  tents  on 
the  "  grub  "  and  stepped  out  into  the 
dark.  We  could  not  be  any  wetter, 
and  we  did  not  care.  To  stand  in 
the  dark  in  the  wilderness,  with 
nothing  to  eat,  and  a  fire-engine 
playing  a  hose  on  you  for  a  couple 
of  hours — if  you  have  imagination 
enough,  you  can  fill  in  the  situation. 
But  the  gods  were  propitious.  The 
wind  died  down.  The  stars  came 
out  by  myriads.  The  fires  were  re- 
lighted, and  the  ordinary  life  begun. 
It  was  late  in  the  night  before  our 
clothes,  blankets,  and  tents  were 
dry  but,  like  boys,  we  forgot  it 
all. 

Then  came  a  river — blue  and  flat 
like  the  sky  above— running  through 

23 


THE   STRANGE  DAYS 

rushy  banks,  backed  by  the  masses 
of  the  forest ;  anon  the  waters  rushed 
upon  us  over  the  rocks,  and  we 
fought,  plunk-plunk-plunk,  with  the 
paddles,  until  our  strength  gave  out. 
We  stepped  out  into  the  water,  and 
getting  our  lines,  and  using  our  long 
double  blades  as  fenders,  "  tracked  " 
the  canoes  up  through  the  boil.  The 
Indians  in  their  heavier  boats  used 
'  setting-poles  "  with  marvellous 
dexterity,  and  by  furious  exertion 
were  able  to  draw  steadily  up  the 
grade  —  though  at  times  they  too 
"  tracked,"  and  even  portaged.  Our 
largest  canoe  weighed  two  hundred 
pounds,  but  a  little  voyager  managed 
to  lug  it,  though  how  I  could  n't 
comprehend,  since  his  pipe-stem  legs 
fairly  bent  and  wobbled  under  the 
enormous  ark.  None  of  us  by  this 
time  were  able  to  lift  the  loads  which 
we  carried,  but,  like  a  Western  pack- 
mule,  we  stood  about  and  had  things 
piled  on  to  us,  until  nothing  more 
24 


THA  T  CAME  TO  JIMMIE  FRIDA  Y 

would  stick.  Some  of  the  back- 
woodsmen carry  incredible  masses  of 
stuff,  and  their  lore  is  full  of  tales 
which  no  one  could  be  expected  to 
believe.  Our  men  did  not  hesitate 
to  take  two  hundred  and  fifty  pounds 
over  short  portages,  which  were  very 
rough  and  stony,  though  they  all 
said  if  they  slipped  they  expected  to 
break  a  leg.  This  is  largely  due  to 
the  tump-Hne,  which  is  laid  over  the 
head,  while  persons  unused  to  it 
must  have  shoulder-straps  in  addi- 
tion, which  are  not  as  good,  because 
the  "  breastbone/*  so  called,  is  not 
strong  enough. 

We  were  getting  day  by  day 
farther  into  "  the  beyond."  There 
were  no  traces  here  of  the  hand  of 
man.  Only  Jimmie  knew  the  way 
— it  was  his  trapping-ground.  Only 
once  did  we  encounter  people.  We 
were  blown  into  a  little  board  dock, 
on  a  gray  day,  with  the  waves  piling 
up  behind  us,  and  made  a  difficult 

25 


THE   STRANGE  DAYS 

landing.  Here  were  a  few  tiny  log 
houses — an  outpost  of  the  Hudson 
Bay  Company.  We  renewed  our 
stock  of  provisions,  after  laborious 
trading  with  the  stagnated  people 
who  live  in  the  lonely  place.  There 
was  nothing  to  sell  us  but  a  few  of 
the  most  common  necessities ;  how- 
ever, we  needed  only  potatoes  and 
sugar.  This  was  Jimmie's  home. 
Here  we  saw  his  poor  old  mother, 
who  was  being  tossed  about  in  the 
smallest  of  canoes  as  she  drew  her 
nets.  Jimmie's  father  had  gone  on  a 
hunting  expedition  and  had  never 
come  back.  Some  day  Jimmie's  old 
mother  will  go  out  on  the  wild  lake 
to  tend  her  nets,  and  she  will  not 
come  back.  Some  time  Jimmie  too 
will  not  return  —  for  this  Indian 
struggle  with  nature  is  appalling  in 
its  fierceness. 

There   was   a  dance  at  the  post, 
which  the  boys  attended,  going  by 
canoe  at  night,  and  they  came  back 
26 


THA  T  CAME  TO  JIMMIE  FRIDA  Y 

early  in  the  morning,  with  much 
giggling  at  their  gallantries. 

The  loneliness  of  this  forest  life 
is  positively  discouraging  to  think 
about.  What  the  long  winters  must 
be  in  the  little  cabins  I  cannot  im- 
agine, and  I  fear  the  traders  must 
be  all  avarice,  or  have  none  at  all; 
for  there  can  certainly  be  absolutely 
no  intellectual  life.  There  is  un- 
doubtedly work,  but  not  one  single 
problem  concerning  it.  The  Indian 
hunters  do  fairly  well  in  a  financial 
way,  though  their  lives  are  beset 
with  weakening  hardships  and  con- 
stant danger.  Their  meagre  diet 
wears  out  their  constitutions,  and 
they  are  subject  to  disease.  The 
simplicity  of  their  minds  makes  it 
very  difficult  to  see  into  their  life 
as  they  try  to  narrate  it  to  one  who 
may  be  interested. 

From  here  on  was  through  beauti- 
ful little  lakes,  and  the  voyagers 
rigged  blanket  sails  on  the  big 
27 


THE   STRANGE  DAYS 

canoes,  while  we  towed  behind. 
Then  came  the  river  and  the  rapids, 
which  we  ran,  darting  between  rocks, 
bumping  on  sunken  stones — shoot- 
ing fairly  out  into  the  air,  all  but 
turning  over  hundreds  of  times. 
One  day  the  Abwees  glided  out  in 
the  big  lake  Tesmiaquemang,  and 
saw  the  steamer  going  to  Bais  des 
Pierres.  We  hailed  her,  and  she 
stopped,  while  the  little  canoes 
danced  about  in  the  swell  as  we 
were  loaded  one  by  one.  On  the  deck 
above  us  the  passengers  admired  a 
kind  of  boat  the  like  of  which  had 
not  before  appeared  in  these  parts. 

At  Bais  des  Pierres  we  handed 
over  the  residue  of  the  commissaries 
of  the  Abwee-Chemun  to  Jimmie 
Friday,  including  personally  many 
pairs  of  well  -  worn  golf  -  breeches, 
sweaters,  rubber  coats,  knives  which 
would  be  proscribed  by  law  in  New 
York.  If  Jimmie  ever  parades  his 
solemn  wilderness  in  these  garbs, 
28 


THA  T  CAME  TO  JIMMIE  FRIDA  Y 

the  owls  will  laugh  from  the  trees. 
Our  simple  forest  friend  laid  in  his 
winter  stock — traps,  flour,  salt,  to- 
bacco, and  pork,  a  new  axe — and 
accompanied  us  back  down  the  lake 
again  on  the  steamer.  She  stopped 
in  mid-stream,  while  Jimmie  got  his 
bundles  into  his  "  bark  "  and  shoved 
off,  amid  a  hail  of  "  good-byes." 

The  engine  palpitated,  the  big 
wheel  churned  the  water  astern,  and 
we  drew  away.  Jimmie  bent  on  his 
paddle  with  the  quick  body-swing 
habitual  to  the  Indian,  and  after  a 
time  grew  a  speck  on  the  reflection 
of  the  red  sunset  in  Temiscamingue. 

The  Abwees  sat  sadly  leaning  on 
the  after-rail,  and  agreed  that  Jimmie 
was  "  a  lovely  Injun."  Jimmie  had 
gone  into  the  shade  of  the  overhang 
of  the  cliffs,  when  the  Norseman 
started  violently  up,  put  his  hands 
in  his  pockets,  stamped  his  foot, 
and  said,  "  By  George,  fellows,  any 
D.  F.  would  call  this  a  sporting  trip !  " 
29 


JOSHUA  GOODENOUGH'S 
OLD  LETTER 


Josbua  (Boo&enougb's  ©15  3Lettet 

THE  following  letter  has  come 
into  my  possession,  which  I  publish 
because  it  is  history,  and  descends 
to  the  list  of  those  humble  beings 
who  builded  so  well  for  us  the  in- 
stitutions which  we  now  enjoy  in 
this  country.  It  is  yellow  with  age, 
and  much  frayed  out  at  the  foldings, 
being  in  those  spots  no  longer  dis- 
cernible. It  runs : 

ALBANY  June  1798. 

TO  MY  DEAR  SON  JOSEPH. — It  is 
true  that  there  are  points  in  the 
history  of  the  country  in  which  your 
father  had  a  concern  in  his  early  life 
and  as  you  ask  me  to  put  it  down  I 
will  do  so  briefly.  Not  however, 

33 


JOSHUA    GOODENOUGH'S 

my  dear  Joseph,  as  I  was  used  to 
tell  it  to  you  when  you  were  a  lad, 
but  with  more  exact  truth,  for  I  am 
getting  on  in  my  years  and  this  will 
soon  be  all  that  my  posterity  will 
have  of  their  ancestor.  I  conceive 
that  now  the  descendents  of  the 
noble  band  of  heroes  who  fought  off 
the  Indians,  the  Frenche  and  the 
British  will  prevail  in  this  country, 
and  my  children's  children  may 
want  to  add  what  is  found  here  in 
written  to  their  own  achievements. 

To  begin  with,  my  father  was  the 
master  of  a  fishing  -  schooner,  of 
Marblehead.  In  the  year  1745  he 
was  taken  at  sea  by  a  French  man- 
of-war  off  Louisbourg,  after  making 
a  desperate  resistence.  His  ship  was 
in  a  sinking  condition  and  the  blood 
was  mid-leg  deep  on  her  deck.  Your 
grandfather  was  an  upstanding  man 
and  did  not  prostrate  easily,  but  the 
Frencher  was  too  big,  so  he  was  cap- 
tured and  later  found  his  way  as  a 

34 


OLD  LETTER 

prisoner  to  Quebec.  He  was  ex- 
changed by  a  mistake  in  his  identity 
for  Huron  Indians  captivated  in 
York,  and  he  subsequently  settled 
near  Albany,  afterwards  bringing 
my  mother,  two  sisters,  and  myself 
from  Marblehead. 

He  engaged  in  the  indian  trade, 
and  as  I  was  a  rugged  lad  of  my 
years  I  did  often  accompany  him  on 
his  expeditions  westward  into  the 
Mohawk  townes,  thus  living  in  bark 
camps  among  Indians  and  got  there- 
by a  knowledge  of  their  ways.  I 
made  shift  also  to  learn  their  lan- 
guage, and  what  with  living  in  the 
bush  for  so  many  years  I  was  a  hand 
at  a  pack  or  paddle  and  no  mean 
hunter  besides.  I  was  put  to  school 
for  two  seasons  in  Albany  which 
was  not  to  my  liking,  so  I  straight- 
way ran  off  to  a  hunters  camp  up  the 
Hudson,  and  only  came  back  when 
my  father  would  say  that  I  should 
not  be  again  put  with  the  pede- 

35 


JOSHUA    GOODENOUGH'S 

gogue.  For  this  adventure  I  had  a 
good  strapping  from  my  father,  and 
was  set  to  work  in  his  trade  again. 
My  mother  was  a  pious  woman  and 
did  not  like  me  to  grow  up  in  the 
wilderness — for  it  was  the  silly  fash- 
ion of  those  times  to  ape  the  manners 
and  dress  of  the  Indians. 

My  father  was  a  shifty  trader  and 
very  ventursome.  He  often  had 
trouble  with  the  people  in  these 
parts,  who  were  Dutch  and  were 
jealous  of  him.  He  had  a  violent 
temper  and  was  not  easily  bent  from 
his  purpose  by  opporsition.  His 
men  had  a  deal  of  fear  of  him  and 
good  cause  enough  in  the  bargain, 
for  I  once  saw  him  discipline  a  half- 
negro  man  who  was  one  of  his  boat- 
men for  stealing  his  private  jug  of 
liquor  from  his  private  pack.  He 
clinched  with  the  negro  and  soon 
had  him  on  the  ground,  where  the 
man  struggled  manfully  but  to  no 
purpose  for  your  grandfather  soon 

36 


OLD  LETTER 

had  him  at  his  mercy.  "  Now  "  said 
he  "  give  me  the  jug  or  take  the 
consequences/*  The  other  boat 
paddlers  wanted  to  rescue  him  but  I 
menaced  them  with  my  fusil  and  the 
matter  ended  by  the  return  of  the 

jug- 
In  1753  he  met  his  end  at  the 
hands  of  western  Indians  in  the 
French  interest,  who  shot  him  as  he 
was  helping  to  carry  a  battoe,  and 
he  was  hurried  in  the  wilderness. 
My  mother  then  returned  to  her 
home  in  Massassachusetts,  journey- 
ing with  a  party  of  traders  but  I 
staid  with  the  Dutch  on  these  fron- 
tiers because  I  had  learned  the  indian 
trade  and  liked  the  country.  Not 
having  any  chances,  I  had  little 
book  learning  in  my  youth,  having 
to  this  day  a  regret  concerning  it. 
I  read  a  few  books,  but  fear  I  had  a 
narrow  knowledge  of  things  outside 
the  Dutch  settlements.  On  the 
frontiers,  for  that  matter,  few  people 

37 


JOSHUA    GOODENOUGH'S 

had  much  skill  with  the  pen,  nor 
was  much  needed.  The  axe  and 
rifle,  the  paddle  and  pack  being 
more  to  our  hands  in  those  rough 
days.  To  prosper  though,  men 
weare  shrewd-headed  enough.  I 
have  never  seen  that  books  helped 
people  to  trade  sharper.  Shortly 
afterwards  our  trade  fell  away,  for 
the  French  had  embroiled  the  In- 
dians against  us.  Crown  Point  was 
the  Place  from  which  the  Indians  in 
their  interest  had  been  fitted  out  to 
go  against  our  settlements,  so  a  de- 
sign was  formed  by  His  Majesty  the 
British  King  to  dispossess  them  of 
that  place.  Troops  were  levid  in 
the  Province  and  the  war  began. 
The  Frenchers  had  the  best  of  the 
fighting. 

Our  frontiers  were  beset  with  the 
Canada  indians  so  that  it  was  not 
safe  to  go  about  in  the  country  at 
all.  I  was  working  for  Peter  Vroo- 
rnan,  a  trader,  and  was  living  at  his 

38 


OLD  LETTER 

house  on  the  Mohawk.  One  Sun- 
day morning  I  found  a  negro  boy 
who  was  shot  through  the  body  with 
two  balls  as  he  was  hunting  for  stray 
sheep,  and  all  this  within  half  a  mile 
of  Vrooman's  house.  Then  an  ex- 
press came  up  the  valley  who  left 
word  that  the  Province  was  levying 
troops  at  Albany  to  fight  the  French, 
and  I  took  my  pay  from  Vrooman 
saying  that  I  would  go  to  Albany 
for  a  soldier.  Another  young  man 
and  myself  paddled  down  to  Al- 
bany, and  we  both  enlisted  in  the 
York  levies.  We  drawed  our  am- 
munition tents,  kettles,  bowls  and 
knives  at  the  Albany  flats,  and  were 
drilled  by  an  officer  who  had  been  in 
her  Majesty's  Service.  One  man 
was  given  five  hundred  lashes  for 
enlisting  in  some  Connecticut  troops, 
and  the  orders  said  that  any  man 
who  should  leave  His  Majesty's  ser- 
vice without  a  Regular  discharge 
should  suffer  Death.  The  restraint 

39 


JOSHUA    GOODENOUGH'S 

which  was  put  upon  me  by  this  mili- 
tary life  was  not  to  my  liking,  and  I 
was  in  a  mortal  dread  of  the  whip- 
pings which  men  were  constantly  re- 
ceiving for  breaches  of  the  discipline. 
I  felt  that  I  could  not  survive  the 
shame  of  being  trussed  up  and 
lashed  before  men's  eyes,  but  I 
did  also  have  a  great  mind  to 
fight  the  French  which  kept  me 
along.  One  day  came  an  order  to 
prepare  a  list  of  officers  and  men 
who  were  willing  to  go  scouting  and 
be  freed  from  other  duty,  and  after 
some  time  I  got  my  name  put  down, 
for  I  was  thought  too  young,  but  I 
said  I  knew  the  woods,  had  often 
been  to  Andiatirocte  (or  Lake  George 
as  it  had  then  become  the  fashion  to 
call  it)  and  they  let  me  go.  It  was 
dangerous  work,  for  reports  came 
every  day  of  how  our  Rangers  suf- 
fered up  country  at  the  hands  of  the 
cruel  savages  from  Canada,  but  it  is 
impossible  to  play  at  bowls  without 
40 


OLD  LETTER 

meeting  some  rubs.  A  party  of  us 
proceeded  up  river  to  join  Captain 
Rogers  at  Fort  Edward,  and  we  were 
put  to  camp  on  an  Island.  This  was 
in  October  of  the  year  1757.  We 
found  the  Rangers  were  rough  bor- 
derers like  ourselvs,  mostly  Hamp- 
shire men  well  used  to  the  woods  and 
much  accustomed  to  the  Enemy. 
They  dressed  in  the  fashion  of  those 
times  in  skin  and  grey  duffle  hunting 
frocks,  and  were  well  armed.  Rog- 
ers himself  was  a  doughty  man  and 
had  a  reputation  as  a  bold  Ranger 
leader.  The  men  declaired  that 
following  him  was  sore  service,  but 
that  he  most  always  met  with  great 
success.  The  Fort  was  garrissoned 
by  His  Majesty's  soldiers,  and  I  did 
not  conceive  that  they  were  much 
fitted  for  bush-ranging,  which  I  after- 
wards found  to  be  the  case,  but  they 
would  always  fight  well  enough, 
though  often  to  no  good  purpose, 
which  was  not  their  fault  so  much  as 


JOSHUA    GOODENOUGH'S 

the  headstrong  leadership  which  per- 
sisted in  making  them  come  to  close 
quarters  while  at  a  disadvantage. 
There  were  great  numbers  of  pack 
horses  coming  and  going  with  stores, 
and  many  officers  in  gold  lace  and 
red  coats  were  riding  about  directing 
here  and  there.  I  can  remember 
that  I  had  a  great  interest  in  this 
concourse  of  men,  for  up  to  that 
time  I  had  not  seen  much  of  the 
world  outside  of  the  wilderness. 
There  was  terror  of  the  Canada  in- 
dians  who  had  come  down  to  our 
borders  hunting  for  scalps — for  these 
were  continually  lurking  near  the 
cantanements  to  waylay  the  unwary. 
I  had  got  acquainted  with  a  Hamp- 
shire borderer  who  had  passed  his 
life  on  the  Canada  frontier,  where 
he  had  fought  indians  and  been  cap- 
tured by  them.  I  had  seen  much  of 
indians  and  knew  their  silent  forest 
habits  when  hunting,  so  that  I  felt 
that  when  they  were  after  human  be- 

42 


OLD  LETTER 

ings  they  would  be  no  mean  adversa- 
ries, but  I  had  never  hunted  them  or 
they  me. 

I  talked  at  great  length  with  this 
Shankland,  or  Shanks  as  he  was 
called  on  account  of  his  name  and 
his  long  legs,  in  course  of  which  he 
explained  many  useful  points  to  me 
concerning  Ranger  ways.  He  said 
they  always  marched  until  it  was 
quite  dark  before  encamping — that 
they  always  returned  by  a  different 
route  from  that  on  which  they  went 
out,  and  that  they  circled  on  their 
trail  at  intervals  so  that  they  might 
intercept  any  one  coming  on  their 
rear.  He  told  me  not  to  gather  up 
close  to  other  Rangers  in  a  fight  but 
to  keep  spread  out,  which  gave  the 
Enemy  less  mark  to  fire  upon  and 
also  deceived  them  as  to  your  own 
numbers.  Then  also  he  cautioned 
me  not  to  fire  on  the  Enemy  when 
we  were  in  ambush  till  they  have 
approached  quite  near,  which  will 

43 


JOSHUA    GOODENOUGH'S 

put  them  in  greater  surprise  and  give 
your  own  people  time  to  rush  in  on 
them  with  hatchets  or  cutlasses. 
Shanks  and  I  had  finally  a  great 
fancy  for  each  other  and  passed  most 
of  our  time  in  company.  He  was  a 
slow  man  in  his  movements  albeit 
he  could  move  fast  enough  on  occas- 
sion,  and  was  a  great  hand  to  take 
note  of  things  happening  around 
him.  No  indian  was  better  able 
to  discern  a  trail  in  the  bush  than 
he,  nor  could  one  be  found  his 
equal  at  making  snow  shoes,  carv- 
ing a  powder  horn  or  fashioning  any 
knick-nack  he  was  a  mind  to  set  his 
hand  to. 

The  Rangers  were  accustomed  to 
scout  in  small  parties  to  keep  the 
Canada  indians  from  coming  close  to 
Fort  Edward.  I  had  been  out  with 
Shanks  on  minor  occasions,  but  I 
must  relate  my  first  adventure. 

A  party  .  .  .  (here  the  writing 
is  lost)  .  .  .  was  desirous  of 

44 


OLD  LETTER 

taking  a  captive  or  scalp.  I  mis- 
doubted our  going  alone  by  our- 
selvs,  but  he  said  we  were  as  safe  as 
with  more.  We  went  northwest 
slowly  for  two  days,  and  though  we 
saw  many  old  trails  we  found  none 
which  were  fresh.  We  had  gone  on 
until  night  when  we  lay  bye  near  a 
small  brook.  I  was  awakened  by 
Shanks  in  the  night  and  heard  a 
great  howling  of  wolves  at  some  dis- 
tance off  togther  with  a  gun  shot. 
We  lay  awake  until  daybreak  and  at 
intervals  heard  a  gun  fired  all  through 
the  night.  We  decided  that  the  fir- 
ing could  not  come  from  a  large 
party  and  so  began  to  approach  the 
sound  slowly  and  with  the  greatest 
caution.  We  could  not  understand 
why  the  wolves  should  be  so  bold 
with  the  gun  firing,  but  as  we  came 
neare  we  smelled  smoke  and  knew  it 
was  a  camp-fire.  There  were  a  num- 
ber of  wolves  running  about  in  the 
underbrush  from  whose  actions  we 

45 


JOSHUA    GOODENOUGH'S 

located  the  camp.  From  a  rise  we 
could  presently  see  it,  and  were  sur- 
prised to  find  it  contained  five  In- 
dians all  lying  asleep  in  their  blankets. 
The  wolves  would  go  right  up  to  the 
camp  and  yet  the  indians  did  not 
deign  to  give  them  any  notice  what- 
soever, or  even  to  move  in  the  least 
when  one  wolf  pulled  at  the  blanket 
of  a  sleeper.  We  each  selected  a 
man  when  we  had  come  near  enough, 
and  preparing  to  deliver  our  fire, 
when  of  a  sudden  one  figure  rose  up 
slightly.  We  nevertheless  fired  and 
then  rushed  forward,  reloading.  To 
our  astonishment  none  of  the  figures 
moved  in  the  least  but  the  wolves 
scurried  off.  We  were  advancing 
cautiously  when  Shanks  caught  me 
by  the  arm  saying  "  we  must  run, 
that  they  had  all  died  of  the  small- 
pox," and  run  we  did  lustilly  for  a 
good  long  distance.  After  this  man- 
ner did  many  Indians  die  in  the  wil- 
derness from  that  dreadful  disease, 
46 


OLD  LETTER 

and  I  have  since  supposed  that  the 
last  living  indian  had  kept  firing  his 
gun  at  the  wolves  until  he  had  no 
longer  strength  to  reload  his  piece. 

After  this  Shanks  and  I  had  be- 
come great  friends  for  he  had  liked 
the  way  I  had  conducted  myself  on 
this  expedition.  He  was  always 
arguying  with  me  to  cut  off  my  eel- 
skin  que  which  I  wore  after  the 
fashion  of  the  Dutch  folks,  saying 
that  the  Canada  indians  would  parade 
me  for  a  Dutchman  after  that  token 
was  gone  with  my  scalp.  He  had 
.  .  .  (writing  obliterated). 

Early  that  winter  I  was  one  of  150 
Rangers  who  marched  with  Captain 
Rogers  against  the  Enemy  at  Car- 
rillion.  The  snow  was  not  deep  at 
starting  but  it  continued  to  snow 
until  it  was  heavy  footing  and  many 
of  the  men  gave  out  and  returned  to 
Fort  Edward,  but  notwithstanding 
my  exhaustion  I  continued  on  for 
six  days  until  we  were  come  to  within 

47 


JOSHUA    GOODENOUGITS 

six  hundred  yards  of  Carrillion  Fort. 
The  captain  had  made  us  a  speech 
in  which  he  told  us  the  points  where 
we  were  to  rendevoux  if  we  were 
broke  in  the  fight,  for  further  resist- 
ence  until  night  came  on,  when  we 
could  take  ourselvs  off  as  best  we 
might.  I  was  with  the  advance 
guard.  We  lay  in  ambush  in  some 
fallen  timber  quite  close  to  a  road, 
from  which  we  could  see  the  smoke 
from  the  chimneys  of  the  Fort  and 
the  centries  walking  their  beats.  A 
French  soldier  was  seen  to  come  from 
the  Fort  and  the  word  was  passed  to 
let  him  go  bye  us,  as  he  came  down 
the  road.  We  lay  perfectly  still  not 
daring  to  breathe,  and  though  he 
saw  nothing  he  stopped  once  and 
seemed  undecided  as  to  going  on, 
but  suspecting  nothing  he  continued 
and  was  captured  by  our  people  be- 
low, for  prisoners  were  wanted  at 
Headquarters  to  give  information  of 
the  French  forces  and  intentions. 


OLD  LETTER 

A  man  taken  in  this  way  was  threat- 
ened with  Death  if  he  did  not  tell 
the  whole  truth,  which  under  the 
circumstancs  he  mostly  did  to  save 
his  life. 

The  French  did  not  come  out  of 
the  Fort  after  us,  though  Rogers 
tried  to  entice  them  by  firing  guns 
and  showing  small  parties  of  men 
which  feigned  to  retreat.  We  were 
ordered  to  destroy  what  we  could  of 
the  supplies,  so  Shanks  and  I  killed 
a  small  cow  which  we  found  in  the 
edge  of  the  clearing  and  took  off 
some  fresh  beef  of  which  food  we 
were  sadly  in  need,  for  on  these 
scouts  the  Rangers  were  not  per- 
mitted to  fire  guns  at  game  though 
it  was  found  in  thir  path,  as  it  often 
was  in  fact.  I  can  remember  on  one 
occassion  that  I  stood  by  a  tree  in  a 
snow  storm,  with  my  gun  depressed 
under  my  frock  the  better  to  keep  it 
dry,  when  I  was  minded  to  glance 
quickly  around  and  there  saw  a  large 

49 


JOSHUA    GOODENOUGH'S 

wolf  just  ready  to  spring  upon  me. 
I  cautiously  presented  my  fusee  but 
did  not  dare  to  fire  against  the  orders. 
An  other  Ranger  came  shortly  into 
view  and  the  wolf  took  himself  off. 
We  burned  some  large  wood  piles, 
which  no  doubt  made  winter  work 
for  to  keep  some  Frenchers  at  home. 
They  only  fired  some  cannon  at  us, 
which  beyond  a  great  deal  of  noise 
did  no  harm.  We  then  marched 
back  to  Fort  Edward  and  were  glad 
enough  to  get  there,  since  it  was 
time  for  snow-shoes,  which  we  had 
not  with  us. 

The  Canada  indians  were  coming 
down  to  our  Forts  and  even  behind 
them  to  intercept  our  convoys  or  any 
parties  out  on  the  road,  so  that  the 
Rangers  were  kept  out,  to  head  them 
when  they  could,  or  get  knowledge 
of  their  whereabouts.  Shanks  and  I 
went  out  with  two  Mohegon  indians 
on  a  scout.  It  was  exceedingly 
stormy  weather  and  very  heavy 


OLD  LETTER 

travelling  except  on  the  River.  I 
had  got  a  bearskin  blanket  from  the 
Indians  which  is  necessary  to  keep 
out  the  cold  at  this  season.  We  had 
ten  days  of  bread,  pork  and  rum 
with  a  little  salt  with  us,  and  fol- 
lowed the  indians  in  a  direction 
North  -  and  -  bye  -  East  toward  the 
lower  end  of  Lake  Champlain,  al- 
ways keeping  to  the  high-ground 
with  the  falling  snow  to  fill  our 
tracks  behind  us.  For  four  days 
we  travelled  when  we  were  well  up 
the  west  side.  We  had  crossed 
numbers  of  trails  but  they  were  all 
full  of  old  snow  and  not  worth  re- 
garding— still  we  were  so  far  from  our 
post  that  in  event  of  encountering 
any  numbers  of  the  Enemy  we  had 
but  small  hope  of  a  safe  return 
and  had  therefore  to  observe  the 
greatest  caution. 

As  we  were  making  our  way  an 
immense  painter  so  menaced  us  that 
we  were  forced  to  fire  our  guns  to 


JOSHUA    GOODENOUGH'S 

dispatch  him.  He  was  found  to  be 
very  old,  his  teeth  almost  gone,  and 
was  in  the  last  stages  of  starvation. 
We  were  much  alarmed  at  this  mis- 
adventure, fearing  the  Enemy  might 
hear  us  or  see  the  ravens  gathering 
above,  so  we  crossed  the  Lake  that 
night  on  some  new  ice  to  blind  our 
trail,  where  I  broke  through  in  one 
place  and  was  only  saved  by  Shanks, 
who  got  hold  of  my  eel-skin  que, 
thereby  having  something  to  pull  me 
out  with.  We  got  into  a  deep  gully, 
and  striking  flint  made  a  fire  to  dry 
me  and  I  did  not  suffer  much  incon- 
venience. 

The  day  following  we  took  a  long 
circle  and  came  out  on  the  lower  end 
of  the  Lake,  there  laying  two  days 
in  ambush,  watching  the  Lake  for 
any  parties  coming  or  going.  Before 
dark  a  Mohigon  came  in  from  watch 
saying  that  men  were  coming  down 
the  Lake.  We  gathered  at  the  point 
and  saw  seven  of  the  Enemy  come 

52 


OLD  LETTER 

slowly  on.  There  were  three  Indians 
two  Canadians  and  a  French  officer. 
Seeing  they  would  shortly  pass  under 
our  point  of  land  we  made  ready  to 
fire,  and  did  deliver  one  fire  as  they 
came  nigh,  but  the  guns  of  our  Mo- 
higons  failed  to  explode,  they  being 
old  and  well  nigh  useless,  so  that  all 
the  damage  we  did  was  to  kill  one 
indian  and  wound  a  Canadian,  who 
was  taken  in  hand  by  his  compan- 
ions, who  made  off  down  the  shore 
and  went  into  the  bush.  We  tried 
to  head  them  unsuccessfully,  and 
after  examining  the  guns  of  our  In- 
dians we  feared  they  were  so  disabled 
that  we  gave  up  and  retreated  down 
the  Lake,  travelling  all  night.  Near 
morning  we  saw  a  small  fire  which 
we  spied  out  only  to  find  a  large 
party  of  the  Enemy,  whereat  we 
were  much  disturbed,  for  our  trav- 
elling had  exhausted  us  and  we 
feared  the  pursuit  of  a  fresh  enemy 

as  soon  as  morning  should  come  to 

f 

53 


JOSHUA    GOODENOUGH'S 

show  them  our  trail.  We  then  made 
our  way  as  fast  as  possible  until  late 
that  night,  when  we  laid  down  for 
refreshment.  We  built  no  fire  but 
could  not  sleep  for  fear  of  the  Enemy 
for  it  was  a  bright  moonlight,  and 
sure  enough  we  had  been  there  but 
a  couple  of  hours  when  we  saw  the 
Enemy  coming  on  our  track.  We 
here  abandoned  our  bearskins  with 
what  provissions  we  had  left  and  ran 
back  on  our  trail  toward  the  advan- 
cing party.  It  was  dark  in  the  forest 
and  we  hoped  they  might  not  dis- 
cover our  back  track  for  some  time, 
thus  giving  us  a  longer  start.  This 
ruse  was  successful.  After  some 
hours  travel  I  became  so  exhausted 
that  I  stopped  to  rest,  whereat  the 
Mohigans  left  us,  but  Shanks  bided 
with  me,  though  urging  me  to  move 
forward.  After  a  time  I  got  strength 
to  move  on.  Shanks  said  the  Cana- 
dians would  come  up  with  us  if  we 
did  not  make  fast  going  of  it,  and 

54 


OLD  LETTER 

that  they  would  disembowel  us  or  tie 
us  to  a  tree  and  burn  us  as  was  their 
usual  way,  for  we  could  in  no  wise 
hope  to  make  head  against  so  large 
a  party.  Thus  we  walked  steadily 
till  high  noon,  when  my  wretched 
strength  gave  out  so  that  I  fell  down 
saying  I  had  as  leave  die  there  as 
elsewhere.  Shanks  followed  back  on 
our  trail,  while  I  fell  into  a  drouse 
but  was  so  sore  I  could  not  sleep. 
After  a  time  I  heard  a  shot,  and 
shortly  two  more,  when  Shanks  came 
running  back  to  me.  He  had  killed 
an  advancing  indian  and  stopped 
them  for  a  moment.  He  kicked  me 
vigorously,  telling  me  to  come  on, 
as  the  indians  would  soon  come 
on  again.  I  got  up,  and  though  I 
could  scarcely  move  I  was  minded 
diligently  to  persevere  after  Shanks. 
Thus  we  staggered  on  until  near 
night  time,  when  we  again  stopped 
and  I  fell  into  a  deep  sleep,  but  the 
enemy  did  not  again  come  up.  On 

55 


JOSHUA    GOODENOUGH'S 

the  following  day  we  got  into  Fort 
Edward,  where  I  was  taken  with  a 
distemper,  was  seized  with  very 
grevious  pains  in  the  head  and  back 
and  a  fever.  They  let  blood  and 
gave  me  a  physic,  but  I  did  not  get 
well  around  for  some  time.  For 
this  sickness  I  have  always  been 
thankful,  otherwise  I  should  have 
been  with  Major  Rogers  in  his  un- 
fortunate battle,  which  has  become 
notable  enough,  where  he  was  de- 
feated by  the  Canadians  and  Indians 
and  lost  nigh  all  his  private  men, 
only  escaping  himself  by  a  miracle. 
We  mourned  the  loss  of  many  friends 
who  were  our  comrades,  though  it 
was  not  the  fault  of  any  one,  since 
the  Enemy  had  three  times  the 
number  of  the  Rangers  and  hemmed 
them  in.  Some  of  the  Rangers  had 
surrendered  under  promise  of  Quar- 
ter, but  we  afterwards  heard  that 
they  were  tied  to  trees  and  hacked 
to  death  because  the  indians  had 

56 


OLD  LETTER 

found  a  scalp  in  the  breast  of  a 
man's  hunting  frock,  thus  showing 
that  we  could  never  expect  such 
bloody  minded  villiains  to  keep  their 
promises  of  Quarter. 

I  was  on  several  scouts  against 
them  that  winter  but  encountered 
nothing  worthy  to  relate  excepting 
the  hardships  which  fell  to  a  Ranger's 
lot.  In  June  the  Army  having  been 
gathered  we  proceeded  under  Aber- 
cromby  up  the  Lake  to  attack  Ticon- 
deroga.  I  thought  at  the  time  that 
so  many  men  must  be  invincible,  but 
since  the  last  war  I  have  been  taught 
to  know  different.  There  were  more 
Highlanders,  Grenadiers,  Provincial 
troops,  Artillery  and  Rangers  than 
the  eye  could  compass,  for  the  Lake 
was  black  with  their  battoes.  This 
concourse  proceeded  to  Ticondaroga 
where  we  had  a  great  battle  and  lost 
many  men,  but  to  no  avail  since  we 
were  forced  to  return. 

The  British  soldiers  were  by  this 

57 


JOSHUA    GOODENOUGH'S 

time  made  servicible  for  forest  war- 
fare, since  the  officers  and  men  had 
been  forced  to  rid  themselvs  of  their 
useless  incumbrances  and  had  cut  off 
the  tails  of  their  long  coats  till  they 
scarcely  reached  below  thir  middles 
— they  had  also  left  the  women  at 
the  Fort,  browned  thir  gun  barrells 
and  carried  thir  provisions  on  their 
backs,  each  man  enough  for  himself, 
as  was  our  Ranger  custom.  The 
army  was  landed  at  the  foot  of  the 
Lake,  where  the  Rangers  quickly 
drove  off  such  small  bodies  of 
Frenchers  and  Indians  as  opposed 
us,  and  we  began  our  march  by  the 
rapids.  Rogers  men  cleared  the  way 
and  had  a  most  desperate  fight  with 
some  French  who  were  minded  to 
stop  us,  but  we  shortly  killed  and 
captured  most  of  them.  We  again 
fell  in  with  them  that  afternoon  and 
were  challenged  Qui  vive  but  an- 
swered that  we  were  French,  but 
they  were  not  deceived  and  fired 

53 


OLD  LETTER 

upon  us,  after  which  a  hot  skirmish 
insued  during  which  Lord  Howe  was 
shot  through  the  breast,  for  which  we 
were  all  much  depressed,  because  he 
was  our  real  leader  and  had  raised 
great  hopes  of  success  for  us.  The 
Rangers  had  liked  him  because  he 
was  wont  to  spend  much  time  talk- 
ing with  them  in  thir  camps  and  used 
also  to  go  on  scouts.  The  Rangers 
were  not  over  fond  of  British  officers 
in  general. 

When  the  time  had  come  for  battle 
we  Rangers  moved  forward,  accom- 
panied by  the  armed  boatmen  and 
the  Provincial  troops.  We  drove  in 
the  French  pickets  and  came  into 
the  open  where  the  trees  were  felled 
tops  toward  us  in  a  mighty  abbatis, 
as  thiough  blown  down  by  the  wind. 
It  was  all  we  could  undertake  to 
make  our  way  through  the  mass,  and 
all  the  while  the  great  breast-works 
of  the  French  belched  cannon  and 
musket  balls  while  the  limbs  and 

59 


JOSHUA    GOODENOUGH'S 

splinters  flew  around  us.  Then  out 
of  the  woods  behind  us  issued  the 
heavy  red  masses  of  the  British 
troops  advancing  in  battle  array  with 
purpose  to  storm  with  the  bayonet. 
The  maze  of  fallen  trees  with  their 
withered  leaves  hanging  broke  their 
ranks,  and  the  French  Retrenchment 
blazed  fire  and  death.  They  ad- 
vanced bravely  up  but  all  to  no  good 
purpose,  and  hundreds  there  met  their 
death.  My  dear  Joseph  I  have  the  will 
but  not  the  way  to  tell  you  all  I  saw 
that  awful  afternoon.  I  have  since 
been  in  many  battles  and  skirmishes, 
but  I  never  have  witnessed  such 
slaughter  and  such  wild  fighting  as 
the  British  storm  of  Ticondaroga. 
We  became  mixed  up — Highlanders, 
Grenadiers,  Light  Troops,  Rangers 
and  all,  and  we  beat  against  that 
mass  of  logs  and  maze  of  fallend 
timber  and  we  beat  in  vain.  I  was 
once  carried  right  up  to  the  breast- 
work, but  we  were  stopped  by  the 
60 


OLD  LETTER 

bristling  mass  of  sharpened  branches, 
while  the  French  fire  swept  us  front 
and  flank.  The  ground  was  covered 
deep  with  dying  men,  and  as  I  think 
it  over  now  I  can  remember  nothing 
but  the  fruit  bourne  by  the  tree  of 
war,  for  I  looked  upon  so  many 
wonderous  things  that  July  day  that 
I  could  not  set  them  downe  at  all. 
We  drew  off  after  seeing  that  human 
valor  could  not  take  that  work. 
We  Rangers  then  skirmished  with 
the  French  colony  troops  and  the 
Canada  Indians  until  dark  while  our 
people  rescued  the  wounded,  and 
then  we  fell  back.  The  Army  was 
utterly  demoralized  and  made  a 
headlong  retreat,  during  which  many 
wounded  men  were  left  to  die  in  the 
woods.  Shanks  and  I  paddled  a 
light  bark  canoe  down  the  Lake  next 
day,  in  the  bottom  of  which  lay  a 
wounded  British  officer  attended  by 
his  servant. 

I   took  my   discharge,   and   lived 
61 


JOSHUA    GOODENOUGITS 

until  the  following  Spring  with 
Vrooman  at  German  Flats,  when  I 
had  a  desire  to  go  again  to  the  more 
active  service  of  the  Rangers,  for 
living  in  camps  and  scouting,  not- 
withstanding its  dangers,  was  agree- 
able to  my  taste  in  those  days.  So 
back  to  Albany  I  started,  and  there 
met  Major  Rogers,  whom  I  ac- 
quainted with  my  desire  to  again 
join  his  service,  whereat  he  seemed 
right  glad  to  put  me  downe.  I  ac- 
cordingly journeyed  to  Crown  Point, 
where  I  went  into  camp.  I  had 
bought  me  a  new  fire-lock  at  Albany 
which  was  provided  with  a  bayonet. 
It  was  short,  as  is  best  fitted  for  the 
bush,  and  about  45  balls  to  the 
pound.  I  had  shot  it  ten  times  on 
trial  and  it  had  not  failed  to  dis- 
charge at  each  pull.  There  was  a 
great  change  in  the  private  men  of 
the  Rangers,  so  many  old  ones  had 
been  frost  bitten  and  gone  home.  I 
found  my  friend  Shanks,  who  had 
62 


OLD  LETTER 

staid  though  he  had  been  badly 
frosted  during  the  winter.  He  had 
such  a  hate  of  the  Frenchers  and 
particularly  of  the  Canada  Indians 
that  he  would  never  cease  to  fight 
them,  they  having  killed  all  his  rela- 
tives in  New  Hampshire  which  made 
him  bitter  against  them,  he  always 
saying  that  they  might  as  well  kill 
him  and  thus  make  an  end  of  the 
family. 

In  June  I  went  north  down  Cham- 
plain  with  250  Rangers  and  Light 
Infantry  in  sloop  -  vessels.  The 
Rangers  were  .  .  .  (writing  lost) 
.  .  .  but  it  made  no  difference. 
The  party  was  landed  on  the  west 
side  of  the  Lake  near  Isle  au  Noix 
and  lay  five  days  in  the  bush,  it 
raining  hard  all  the  time.  I  was  out 
with  a  recoinnoitering  party  to  watch 
the  Isle,  and  very  early  in  the  morn- 
ing we  saw  the  French  coming  to 
our  side  in  boats,  whereat  we  ac- 
quainted Major  Rogers  that  the 

63 


JOSHUA    GOODENOUGH'S 

French  were  about  to  attack  us. 
We  were  drawn  up  in  line  to  await 
their  coming.  The  forest  always 
concealed  a  Ranger  line,  so  that 
there  might  not  have  been  a  man 
within  a  hundred  miles  for  all  that 
could  be  seen,  and  so  it  was  that  an 
advance  party  of  the  Enemy  walked 
into  our  line  and  were  captured, 
which  first  appraised  the  French  of 
our  position.  They  shortly  attacked 
us  on  our  left,  but  I  was  sent  with  a 
party  to  make  our  way  through  a 
swamp  in  order  to  attack  their  rear. 
This  we  accomplished  so  quietly  that 
we  surprized  some  Canada  indians 
who  were  lying  back  of  the  French 
line  listening  to  a  prophet  who  was 
incanting.  These  we  slew,  and  after 
our  firing  many  French  grenadiers 
came  running  past,  when  they  broke 
before  our  line.  I  took  a  French- 
man prisoner,  but  he  kept  his  bayo- 
net pointed  at  me,  all  the  time 
yelling  in  French  which  I  did  not 

64 


OLD  LETTER 

understand,  though  I  had  my  loaded 
gun  pointed  at  him.  He  seemed  to 
be  disturbed  at  the  sight  of  a  scalp 
which  I  had  hanging  in  my  belt.  I 
had  lately  took  it  from  the  head  of 
an  Indian,  it  being  my  first,  but  I 
was  not  minded  to  kill  the  poor 
Frenchman  and  was  saying  so  in 
English.  He  put  down  his  fire-lock 
finally  and  offered  me  his  flask  to 
drink  liquor  with  him,  but  I  did  not 
use  it.  I  had  known  that  Shanks 
carried  poisoned  liquor  in  his  pack, 
with  the  hope  that  it  would  destroy 
any  indians  who  might  come  into 
possession  of  it,  if  he  was  taken, 
whether  alive  or  dead.  As  I  was 
escorting  the  Frenchman  back  to  our 
boats  he  quickly  ran  away  from  me, 
though  I  snapped  my  fire-lock  at 
him,  which  failed  to  explode,  it  hav- 
ing become  wet  from  the  rain.  After- 
wards I  heard  that  a  Ranger  had 
shot  him,  seeing  him  running  in  the 
bush. 


JOSHUA   GOODENOUGH*S 

We  went  back  to  our  boats  after 
this  victory  and  took  all  our  wounded 
and  dead  with  us,  which  last  we 
buried  on  an  island.  Being  joined 
by  a  party  of  Stockbridge  Indians 
we  were  again  landed,  and  after 
marching  for  some  days  came  to  a 
road  where  we  recoinnoitered  St. 
John's  Fort  but  did  not  attack  it, 
Rogers  judging  it  not  to  be  takeable 
with  our  force.  From  here  we  be- 
gan to  march  so  fast  that  only  the 
strongest  men  could  keep  up,  and 
at  day-break  came  to  another  Fort. 
We  ran  into  the  gate  while  a  hay- 
waggon  was  passing  through,  and 
surprised  and  captured  all  the  gar- 
rison, men  women  and  children. 
After  we  had  burned  and  destroyed 
everything  we  turned  the  women 
and  children  adrift,  but  drove  the 
men  along  as  prisoners,  making 
them  carry  our  packs.  We  marched 
so  fast  that  the  French  grenadiers 
could  not  keep  up,  for  their  breeches 
66 


OLD  LETTER 

were  too  tight  for  them  to  march 
with  ease,  whereat  we  cut  off  the 
legs  of  them  with  our  knives,  when 
they  did  better.  After  this  expedi- 
tion we  scouted  from  Crown  Point  in 
canoes,  Shanks  and  myself  going  as 
far  north  as  we  dared  toward  Isle  au 
Noix,  and  one  day  while  lying  on 
the  bank  we  saw  the  army  coming. 
It  was  an  awsome  sight  to  see  so 
many  boats  filled  with  brave  uni- 
forms, as  they  danced  over  the 
waves.  The  Rangers  and  Indians 
came  a  half  a  mile  ahead  of  the 
Army  in  whale-boats  all  in  line 
abreast,  while  behind  them  came  the 
light  Infantry  and  Grenadiers  with 
Provincial  troops  on  the  flanks  and 
Artillery  and  Store  boats  bringing 
up  the  Rear. 

Shanks  and  I  fell  in  with  the 
Ranger  boats,  being  yet  in  our  small 
bark  and  much  hurled  about  by  the 
waves,  which  rolled  prodigious. 

The  Army  continued  up  the  Lake 
67 


JOSHUA    GOODENOUGH'S  LETTER 

and  drove  the  Frenchers  out  of  their 
Forts,  they  not  stopping  to  resist  us 
till  we  got  to  Chamblee,  where  we 
staid.  But  the  French  in  Canada 
had  all  surrendered  to  the  British 
and  the  war  was  over.  This  ended 
my  service  as  a  Ranger  in  those 
parts.  I  went  back  to  Vroomans  in- 
tending to  go  again  into  the  Indian 
trade,  for  now  we  hoped  that  the 
French  would  no  longer  be  able  to 
stop  our  enterprises. 

Now,  my  dear  son — I  will  send 
you  this  long  letter,  and  will  go  on 
writing  of  my  later  life  in  the  Western 
country  and  in  the  War  of  Inde- 
pendence, and  will  send  you  those 
letters  as  soon  as  I  have  them  writ- 
ten. I  did  not  do  much  or  occupy 
a  commanding  position,  but  I  served 
faithfully  in  what  I  had  to  do.  For 
the  present  God  bless  you  my  dear 
son. 

JOSHUA  GOODENOUGKL 


68 


CHASING  A  MAJOR- 
GENERAL 


69 


Gbasing  a  /IDajotxSeneral 

THE  car  had  been  side-tracked  at 
Fort  Keough,  and  on  the  following 
morning  the  porter  shook  me,  and 
announced  that  it  was  five  o'clock. 
An  hour  later  I  stepped  out  on  the 
rear  platform,  and  observed  that  the 
sun  would  rise  shortly,  but  that 
meanwhile  the  air  was  chill,  and 
that  the  bald,  square-topped  hills  of 
the  "  bad  lands  "  cut  rather  hard 
against  the  gray  of  the  morning. 
Presently  a  trooper  galloped  up  with 
three  led  horses,  which  he  tied  to  a 
stake.  I  inspected  them,  and  saw 
that  one  had  a  *'  cow  saddle,"  which 
I  recognized  as  an  experiment  sug- 
gested by  the  general.  The  animal 
bearing  it  had  a  threatening  look, 


CHASING  A   MAJOR-GENERAL 

and  I  expected  a  repetition  of  a  per- 
formance of  a  few  days  before,  when 
I  had  chased  the  general  for  over 
three  hours,  making  in  all  twenty- 
eight  miles. 

Before  accepting  an  invitation  to 
accompany  an  Indian  commission 
into  the  Northwest  I  had  asked  the 
general  quietly  if  this  was  a  "  horse- 
back "  or  a  "  wagon  outfit/'  He 
had  assured  me  that  he  was  not  a 
"  wagon  man/*  and  I  indeed  had 
heard  before  that  he  was  not.  There 
is  always  a  distinction  in  the  army 
between  wagon  men  and  men  who 
go  without  wagons  by  transport- 
ing their  supplies  on  pack  animals. 
The  wagon  men  have  always  ac- 
quired more  reputation  as  travellers 
than  Indian  fighters.  In  a  trip  to 
the  Pine  Ridge  Agency  I  had  dis- 
covered that  General  Miles  was  not 
committed  to  any  strained  theory 
of  how  mounted  men  should  be 
moved.  Any  settled  purpose  he 
72 


CHASING  A   MAJOR-GENERAL 

might  have  about  his  movements 
were  all  locked  up  in  a  desperate  de- 
sire to  "  get  thar."  Being  a  little 
late  in  leaving  a  point  on  the  rail- 
road, I  rode  along  with  Lieutenant 
Guilfoil,  of  the  Ninth,  and  we  moved 
at  a  gentle  trot.  Presently  we  met 
a  citizen  in  a  wagon,  and  he,  upon 
observing  the  lieutenant  in  uniform, 
pulled  up  his  team  and  excitedly 
inquired, 

"  What  's  the  matter,  Mr.  Sol- 
dier ?" 

Guilfoil  said  nothing  was  the  mat- 
ter that  he  knew  of. 

'  Who  be  you  uns  after  ?  " 

"  No  one/'  replied  the  lieutenant. 

'  Well,  I  just  saw  a  man  go  whirl- 
ing up  this  'ere  valley  with  a  soldier 
tearin'  after  him  fit  to  kill"  (that 
was  the  general's  orderly),  "  and 
then  comes  a  lot  more  soldiers  just 
a-smokin',  and  I  sort  of  wondered 
what  the  man  had  done." 

We  laughed,   and  remarked  that 

73 


CHASING  A   MAJOR-GENERAL 

the  general  must  be  riding  pretty 
hard.  Other  citizens  we  met  in- 
quired if  that  man  was  a  lunatic  or  a 
criminal.  The  idea  of  the  soldiers 
pursuing  a  man  in  citizen's  clothes 
furthered  the  idea,  but  we  assured 
them  that  it  was  only  General  Miles 
going  somewhere. 

All  of  these  episodes  opened  my 
eyes  to  the  fact  that  if  I  followed 
General  Miles  I  would  have  to  do 
some  riding  such  as  I  had  rarely 
done  before.  In  coming  back  to  the 
railroad  we  left  the  Pine  Ridge 
Agency  in  the  evening  without 
supper,  and  I  was  careful  to  get 
an  even  start.  My  horse  teetered 
and  wanted  to  gallop,  but  I  knew 
that  the  twenty-eight  miles  would 
have  to  be  done  at  full  speed,  so  I 
tried  to  get  him  down  to  a  fast  trot, 
which  gait  I  knew  would  last  better  • 
but  in  the  process  of  calming  him 
down  to  a  trot  I  lost  sight  of  the 
general  and  his  orderly  as  they  went 

74 


CHASING  A   MAJOR-GENERAL 

tearing  like  mad  over  a  hill  against 
the  last  gleam  of  the  sunset.  I  rode 
at  a  very  rapid  trot  over  the  hills  in 
the  moonlight  for  over  three  hours, 
but  I  never  saw  the  general  again 
until  I  met  him  at  dinner.  Then  I 
further  concluded  that  if  I  followed 
the  general  I  would  have  no  time  to 
regait  my  horses,  but  must  take  them 
as  I  found  them,  gallop  or  trot.  So 
on  this  cool  morning  at  Keough  I 
took  observations  of  the  horses 
which  were  tied  to  the  post,  with 
my  mind  full  of  misgivings. 

Patter,  patter,  patter  —  clank, 
clank,  clank;  up  comes  the  com- 
pany of  Cheyenne  scouts  who  are  to 
escort  the  general — fine-looking,  tall 
young  men,  with  long  hair,  and 
mounted  on  small  Indian  ponies. 
They  were  dressed  and  accoutred  as 
United  States  soldiers,  and  they 
fill  the  eye  of  a  military  man  until 
nothing  is  lacking.  Now  the  general 
steps  out  of  the  car  and  hands  the 

75 


CHASING  A   MAJOR-GENERAL 

commission  into  a  six-mule  ambu- 
lance. I  am  given  a  horse,  and, 
mounting,  we  move  off  over  the 
plain  and  into  the  hills.  The  sun 
comes  streaming  over  the  landscape, 
and  the  general  is  thinking  about 
this  old  trail,  and  how  years  before 
he  had  ploughed  his  way  through 
the  blinding  snow  to  the  Lame  Deer 
fight.  I  am  secretly  wishing  that  it 
would  occupy  his  mind  more  fully, 
so  that  my  breakfast  might  settle  at 
the  gentle  gait  we  are  going,  but 
shortly  he  says,  "  It  's  sixty  miles, 
and  we  must  move  along/'  We 
break  into  a  gallop.  The  landscape 
is  gilded  by  the  morning  sun,  and 
the  cool  of  the  October  air  makes  it 
a  perfect  thing,  but  there  are  ele- 
ments in  the  affair  which  complicate 
'its  perfection.  The  "  bad  lands  " 
are  rough,  and  the  general  goes 
down  a  hill  with  even  more  rapidity 
xthan  up  it.  The  horses  are  not  the 
perfect  animals  of  the  bridle-path, 
76 


CHASING  A   MAJOR-GENERAL 

but  poor  old  cavalry  brutes,  procured 
by  the  government  under  the  old 
contract  system,  by  which  the  gov- 
ernment pays  something  like  $125 
for  a  $60  horse.  This  could  be 
remedied  by  allowing  the  officers  of 
each  regiment  to  buy  their  own 
horses ;  but  in  our  army  nothing  is 
remedied,  because  a  lot  of  nice  old 
gentlemen  in  Washington  are  too 
conservative  to  do  anything  but  eat 
and  sleep.  There  is  a  bit  of  human 
nature  at  the  bottom  of  our  army 
organization,  and  where  is  the  man 
who  can  change  that  ?  Men  who 
were  the  very  jewels  of  the  profes- 
sion years  ago  have  reached  in  due 
time  the  upper  grades  of  rank,  and 
occupy  the  bureaus  of  the  depart- 
ment. These  men  who  have  ac- 
quired rank,  years,  and  discretion 
naturally  do  nothing,  and  with  sedate 
gravity  insist  that  no  one  else  shall 
do  anything.  The  ambitious  young 
men  have  to  wait  patiently  for  their 

77 


CHASING  A    MAJOR-GENERAL 

retirement,  and  in  process  of  waiting 
they,  too,  become  old  and  conserva- 
tive. Old  soldiers  are  pardonable 
rubbish,  since  soldiers,  like  other 
men,  must  age  and  decay,  the  only 
distinction  being  that  youthful  vigor 
is  of  prime  importance  to  a  soldier, 
while  in  the  case  of  the  citizen  any 
abatement  of  vigor  is  rewarded  by 
being  shelved.  What  to  do  with 
old  soldiers  is  a  problem  which  I  will 
hand  over  to  the  economists  as  being 
beyond  my  depth.  But  to  return  to 
the  going  downhill.  General  Miles 
has  acquired  his  knowledge  of  riding 
from  wild  Indians,  and  wild  Indians 
go  uphill  and  downhill  as  a  matter 
of  course  at  whatever  gait  they  hap- 
pen to  be  travelling.  He  would 
make  his  horse  climb  a  tree  with 
equal  gravity  if  he  was  bound  that 
way.  The  general  has  known  In- 
dians to  ride  for  two  days  and  a 
night  at  a  rapid  gallop,  and  it  never 
occurs  to  him  that  he  cannot  do 


CHASING  A   MAJOR-GENERAL 

anything  which  any  one  else  can ;  so 
he  spurs  along,  and  we  go  cutting 
around  the  coulies  and  bluffs  like 
frightened  antelopes  or  mad  crea- 
tures. The  escort  strings  out  behind. 
This  is  observed  with  a  grim  humor 
by  the  general,  who  desires  nothing 
so  much  as  to  leave  his  escort  far  in 
the  rear.  He  turns  in  his  saddle, 
and  seeing  the  dust  of  the  escort  far 
behind,  says:  "  Shake  up  the  young 
men  a  little;  do  'em  good.  They 
get  sleepy  ' ' ;  and  away  we  go. 

It  is  over  thirty  miles  to  the  first 
relay  station,  or  courier's  camp,  and 
another  problem  looms  up.  The 
general's  weight  is  over  two  hundred 
pounds,  and  I  confess  to  two  hun- 
dred and  fifteen  avoirdupois,  and,  as 
I  have  before  remarked,  my  horse 
was  not  an  Irish  hunter,  so  my  mus- 
ing took  a  serious  vein.  It  is  all 
very  well  for  a  major-general  to  ride 
down  a  cavalry  horse,  but  if  such  an 
accident  were  to  happen  to  me,  then 

79 


CHASING  A   MAJOR-GENERAL 

my  friends  in  the  cavalry  would 
crown  me  with  thorns.  Two  hundred 
and  fifteen  pounds  requires  a  great 
deal  more  careful  attention  than  a 
one-hundred-and-forty-pound  wasp- 
waisted  cavalryman.  What  the  lat- 
ter can  do  with  impunity  would  put 
me  on  foot — a  thing  that  happened 
some  ten  years  since  in  this  very 
State  of  Montana,  and  a  thing  I 
have  treasured  in  mind,  and  will  not 
have  repeated.  So  I  brought  the 
old  horse  down  to  a  trot,  and  a  good 
round  trot  eats  up  a  road  in  short 
order.  Your  galloper  draws  away 
from  you,  but  if  the  road  is  long 
enough,  you  find  that  you  are  at  his 
heels. 

After  a  good  day's  ride  of  some- 
thing like  sixty  miles,  we  met  a  troop 
of  the  Eighth  Cavalry  near  its  camp 
on  the  Tongue  River,  and  the  gen- 
eral is  escorted  in.  The  escorts 
draw  into  line,  salute,  and  the  gen- 
eral is  duly  deposited  in  a  big  Sibley 
80 


CHASING  A   MAJOR-GENERAL 

tent ;  and  I  go  away  on  the  arms  of 
some  "  cavalry  kids "  (as  young 
lieutenants  are  called)  to  a  hole  in 
the  ground  (a  dugout)  where  they 
are  quartered.  On  the  following 
morning  I  am  duly  admonished  that 
if  my  whereabouts  could  have  been 
ascertained  on  the  previous  evening, 
the  expedition  would  have  continued 
to  the  camp  of  the  First  Cavalry.  I 
do  not  think  the  general  was  unduly 
severe,  desiring  simply  to  shift  the 
responsibility  of  the  procrastination 
on  to  other  shoulders,  and  mean- 
while being  content  to  have  things 
as  they  were.  I  was  privately 
thanked  by  the  citizen  members  of 
the  commission  for  the  delay  I  had 
caused,  since  they  had  a  well- 
grounded  conviction  that  sixty  miles 
a  day  in  an  army  ambulance  was 
trouble  enough.  After  some  sar- 
casm by  a  jolly  young  sub,  to  the 
effect  that  "  if  one  wants  to  call  a 
citizen  out  of  a  tent,  one  must  ring 
81 


CHASING  A    MAJOR-GENERAL 

a  dinner-bell,"  we  were  again 
mounted  and  on  the  way.  I  was 
badly  mounted  that  day,  but  able 
to  participate  in  the  wild  charge  of 
forty-five  miles  to  the  Lame  Deer 
camp,  near  the  Cheyenne  Agency. 
The  fifty  Cheyenne  scouts  and  a 
troop  of  the  Eighth  were  in  escort. 

By  a  happy  combination  I  was 
able  to  add  greatly  to  my  equestrian 
knowledge  on  this  ride.  It  hap- 
pened in  this  way;  but  I  must  ex- 
plain. Some  years  ago  I  had  occasion 
to  ride  a  stock  saddle  (the  cowboy 
article),  and  with  all  the  positiveness 
of  immature  years,  I  held  all  other 
trees  and  all  other  methods  of  riding 
in  a  magnificent  contempt.  Later 
on  I  had  to  be  convinced  that  a 
great  many  young  cavalry  officers  in 
our  service  were  the  most  daring  and 
perfect  riders,  and  that  the  McClel- 
land saddle  was  the  proper  thing.  I 
even  elaborated  a  theory  in  explana- 
tion of  all  this,  which  I  had  duly 
82 


CHASING  A   MAJOR-GENERAL 

shattered  for  me  when  I  came  East 
and  frequented  a  New  York  riding- 
academy,  where  a  smiling  professor 
of  the  art  assured  me  that  cowboys 
and  soldiers  were  the  worst  possible 
riders.  Indeed,  the  sneers  of  the 
polite  European  were  so  superlative 
that  I  dared  not  even  doubt  his 
statements.  Of  course  I  never  quite 
understood  how  my  old  champions 
of  the  cattle  range  and  the  war  trail 
could  pick  things  off  the  ground 
while  in  full  career,  or  ride  like  mad 
over  the  cut  banks  and  bowlders,  if 
they  were  such  desperately  bad 
riders ;  and  I  never  was  able  to  com- 
pletely understand  why  my  Euro- 
pean master  could  hardly  turn  in  his 
saddle  without  tumbling  off.  But 
still  he  reduced  me  to  submission, 
and  I  ceased  even  to  doubt.  I 
changed  my  style  of  riding,  in  defer- 
ence to  a  public  sentiment,  and  got 
my  legs  tucked  up  under  my  chin, 
and  learned  to  loose  my  seat  at 

83 


CHASING  A   MAJOR-GENERAL 

every  alternate  footfall,  and  in  time 
acquired  a  balance  which  was  as  se- 
cure as  a  pumpkin  on  the  side  of  a 
barrel.  Thus  equipped  with  all  this 
knowledge  and  my  own  saddle,  I 
went  out  to  the  Northwest  with  the 
purpose  of  introducing  a  little  revolu- 
tion in  cavalry  riding.  Things  went 
swimmingly  for  a  time.  The  inter- 
preters and  scouts  watched  my  riding 
with  mingled  pity  and  scorn,  but  I 
knew  they  were  unenlightened,  and 
in  no  way  to  be  regarded  seriously. 
The  general  was  duly  amused  by 
my  teetering,  and  suggested  to  the 
smiling  escort  officers  that  "  he  has 
lived  so  long  abroad,  you  know/' 
etc.,  all  of  which  I  did  not  mind,  for 
my  faith  in  the  eternal  art  of  the 
thing  was  complete.  Now  to  tell 
how  I  discovered  that  I  was  riding  a 
seat  which  was  no  seat  at  all,  and 
was  only  retained  by  a  series  of 
happy  accidents,  I  will  continue. 
While  at  the  head  of  the  column, 

84 


CHASING  A   MAJOR-GENERAL 

where  I  could  see  the  deep  ruts  in 
the  road  and  the  bowlders,  and  could 
dodge  the  prairie-dog  holes,  it  was 
simple  enough ;  but  my  horse  being 
a  very  clumsy  galloper,  and  begin- 
ning to  blow  under  the  pace,  I  began 
to  pull  up,  calculating  to  get  a  sharp 
trot,  and  overhaul  the  column  when 
it  slowed  down.  The  column  of 
soldiers  dashed  by,  and  the  great 
cloud  of  dust  rose  up  behind  them 
which  always  follows  a  herd  of 
animals  in  the  West.  Being  no 
longer  able  to  see,  the  only  thing  to 
do  under  the  circumstances  was  to 
give  my  horse  his  head,  and  resign 
myself  to  the  chances  of  a  gopher 
hole,  if  it  was  foreordained  that  my 
horse  should  find  one.  True  to  his 
instincts,  my  old  cavalry  horse 
plunged  into  the  ranks.  You  can- 
not keep  a  troop  horse  out  of  the 
ranks.  They  know  their  place,  and 
seek  it  with  the  exactitude  of  water. 
If  the  cavalry  tactics  are  ever 

85 


CHASING  A   MAJOR-GENERAL 

changed,  the  present  race  of  horses 
will  have  to  be  sold,  because,  while 
you  can  teach  a  horse  anything,  you 
cannot  unteach  him. 

In  front  I  could  see  two  silhouettes 
of  soldiers  tearing  along,  and  behind 
could  hear  the  heavy  pounding  of 
the  troop  horses,  the  clank  of  arms, 
the  snorts  and  heavy  breathings.  I 
could  hardly  see  my  horse's  head,  to 
say  nothing  of  the  ground  in  front. 
Here  is  where  the  perfect  grip  with 
the  thighs  is  wanted,  and  here  is 
where  the  man  who  is  bundled  up 
like  a  ball  on  his  horse's  back  is  in 
imminent  danger  of  breaking  his 
neck.  I  felt  like  a  pack  on  a  gov- 
ernment mule,  and  only  wished  I  had 
some  one  to  "  throw  the  diamond 
hitch  over  me/'  The  inequalities 
of  the  road  make  your  horse  plunge 
and  go  staggering  sidewise,  or  down 
on  his  knees,  and  it  is  not  at  all  an 
unusual  thing  for  a  cavalryman  to 
upset  entirely,  though  nothing  short 
86 


CHASING  A   MAJOR-GENERAL 

of  a  total  turn-over  will  separate 
a  veteran  soldier  from  his  horse. 
After  a  few  miles  of  these  vicissi- 
tudes I  gained  the  head  of  the 
column,  and  when  the  pace  slack- 
ened I  turned  the  whole  thing  over 
in  my  mind,  and  a  great  light  seemed 
to  shine  through  the  whole  subject. 
For  a  smooth  road  and  a  trotting 
horse,  that  European  riding-master 
was  right ;  but  when  you  put  a  man 
in  the  dust  or  smoke,  over  the  rocks 
and  cut  banks,  on  the  "  bucking  " 
horse,  or  where  he  must  handle  his 
weapons  or  his  vieta,  he  must  have 
a  seat  on  his  mount  as  tight  as  a 
stamp  on  an  envelope,  and  not 
go  washing  around  like  a  shot  in  a 
bottle.  In  a  park  or  on  a  country 
road,  where  a  man  has  nothing  to  do 
but  give  his  undivided  attention  to 
sticking  on  his  saddle,  it  has  its  ad- 
vantages. An  Indian  or  a  cowboy 
could  take  the  average  park  rider  off 
from  his  horse,  scalp  him,  hang  him 

87 


'CHASING  A   MAJOR-GENERAL 

on  a  bush,  and  never  break  a  gallop. 
I  do  not  wish  to  seem  intolerant, 
because  I  will  say  that  the  most 
beautiful  horse  and  the  most  perfect 
horseman  I  have  ever  seen  was  the 
bay  gelding  Partisan  and  his  rider 
in  the  high-school  class  at  the  recent 
Horse  Show  in  New  York ;  but  I  do 
insist  that  no  one  shall  for  a  moment 
imagine  that  the  American  style  of 
riding  is  not  the  firmest  of  all 
seats. 

With  a  repetition  of  the  military 
forms,  we  reached  the  cavalry  camp 
on  the  Lame  Deer  Creek.  This  is 
an  old  battle-ground  of  the  general's 
— his  last  fight  with  the  Cheyennes, 
where,  as  the  general  puts  it,  we 
"  kicked  them  out  of  their  blankets 
in  the  early  morning."  These  In- 
dians recognize  him  as  their  con- 
queror, and  were  allied  with  him  in 
the  Nez  Perce  campaign.  One  old 
chief  pointed  to  the  stars  on  his 
shoulder-strap,  and  charged  him  to 
88 


CHASING  A    MAJOR-GENERAL 

remember  that  they  helped  to  put 
them  there. 

That  night  was  very  cold,  and  I 
slept  badly,  so  at  an  early  hour  I 
rolled  out  of  my  blankets  and  crawled 
into  my  clothes.  I  stepped  out  of 
my  tent,  and  saw  that  the  stars  were 
yet  visible  and  the  light  of  the  morn- 
ing warming  up  to  chase  the  gray 
shadows  over  the  western  hills. 
Three  tight  little  cavalry  soldiers 
came  out  on  the  parade,  and  blew 
three  bugles  as  hard  as  ever  they 
could  to  an  unappreciative  audience 
of  sleepy  soldiers  and  solemn  hills. 
I  walked  down  past  the  officers' 
row,  and  shook  the  kinks  out  of  my 
stiffened  knees.  Everything  was  as 
quietly  'dismal  as  only  a  sleeping 
camp  can  be.  The  Sibley  contain- 
ing General  Miles  showed  no  signs 
of  life,  and  until  he  arose  this  little 
military  solar  system  would  not  re- 
volve. I  bethought  me  of  the  irregu- 
lars. They  were  down  in  the  river 


CHASING  A   MAJOR-GENERAL 

bottom — Lieutenant  Casey  and  his 
Indian  scouts.  I  knew  that  Casey 
had  commanded  Indian  scouts  until 
his  temper  was  as  refined  as  beaten 
gold,  so  I  thought  it  safer  to  arouse 
him  than  any  one  else,  and,  walking 
down,  I  scratched  at  his  tent — which 
is  equivalent  to  knocking — and  re- 
ceived a  rather  loud  and  surly  inquiry 
as  to  what  I  wanted.  My  sensitive 
nature  was  so  shocked  by  this  that, 
like  the  bad  actor,  I  had  hopes  for 
no  more  generous  gift  than  a  cigar- 
ette. I  was  let  into  the  Sibley,  and 
saw  the  ground  covered  with  blan- 
keted forms.  One  of  the  swathed 
forms  sat  up,  and  the  captain  allowed 
he  wanted  to  get  up  in  the  night, 
but  that  ever  since  Lieutenant  Blank 
had  shot  at  the  orderly  he  was  afraid 
to  move  about  in  the  gloom.  Lieu- 
tenant B.  sat  up  and  denied  the  im- 
peachment. Another  officer  arose 
and  made  some  extended  remarks 
on  the  unseemly  disturbance  at  this 
go 


CHASING  A   MAJOR-GENERAL 

unseasonable  hour.  To  pass  over 
these  inequalities  of  life,  I  will  say 
that  the  military  process  of  stiffening 
a  man's  backbone  and  reducing  his 
mind  to  a  logarithm  breeds  a  homo- 
geneous class  whom  we  all  know. 
They  have  small  waists,  and  their 
clothes  fit  them;  they  are  punctil- 
ious ;  they  respect  forms,  and  always 
do  the  dignified  and  proper  thing  at 
the  particular  instant,  and  never  dis- 
play their  individuality  except  on 
two  occasions:  one  is  the  field  of 
battle  and  the  other  is  before  break- 
fast. Some  bright  fellow  will  one 
day  tell  in  print  the  droll  stock  anec- 
dotes of  the  United  States  army,  and 
you  '11  all  agree  that  they  are  good. 
They  are  better,  though,  if  you  sit 
in  a  Sibley  on  a  cold*  morning  while 
the  orderly  boils  the  coffee ;  and  are 
more  fortunate  if  you  have  Ned 
Casey  to  embellish  what  he  calls  the 
international  complications  which 
arose  from  the  bombardment  of 


CHASING  A   MAJOR-GENERAL 

Canada    with    paving-stones    by    a 
drunken  recruit  at  Detroit. 

After  the  commission  had  talked 
to  a  ring  of  drowsy  old  chiefs,  and 
the  general  had  reminded  them  that 
he  had  thrashed  them  once,  and  was 
perfectly  willing  to  do  it  again  if  they 
did  not  keep  in  the  middle  of  the  big 
road,  the  commission  was  loaded 
into  the  ambulance.  The  driver 
clucked  and  whistled  and  snapped 
his  whip  as  a  preliminary  which  al- 
ways precedes  the  concerted  move- 
ment of  six  mules,  and  we  started. 
This  time  I  found  that  I  had  a 
mount  that  was  "  a  horse  from  the 
ground  up/*  as  they  phrase  it  in  the 
red-blooded  West.  Well  it  was  so, 
for  at  the  relay  camp  I  had  issued  to 
me  a  sorrel  ruin  which  in  the  pristine 
vigor  of  its  fifth  year  would  not  have 
commanded  the  value  of  a  tin  cup. 
After  doing  a  mile  of  song  and  dance 
on  this  poor  beast  I  dismounted, 
and  shifting  my  saddle  back  to  my 
92 


CHASING  A   MAJOR-GENERAL 

led  horse  of  the  morning,  which  was 
led  by  a  Crow  scout,  made  the  sixty- 
mile  march  of  that  day  on  the  noble 
animal.  Poor  old  chap,  fit  for  a 
king,  good  for  all  day  and  the  next, 
would  bring  six  hundred  dollars  in 
the  New  York  Horse  Exchange,  but 
condemned  to  pack  a  trooper  in  the 
ranks  until  a  penurious  government 
condemns  and  sells  him  to  a  man 
who,  nine  times  out  of  ten,  by  the 
law  of  God,  ought  not  to  be  intrusted 
with  the  keeping  of  the  meanest  of 
his  creatures,  to  say  nothing  of  his 
noblest  work — a  horse.  "  Such  is 
life, ' '  is  the  salve  a  good  soldier  puts 
on  his  wounds. 

During  the  day  we  went  all  over 
the  battle-field  of  the  Little  Big 
Horn.  I  heard  a  good  deal  of  pro- 
fessional criticism,  and  it  is  my 
settled  conviction  that  had  Reno 
and  Benteen  gone  in  and  fought  as 
hard  as  they  were  commanded  to  do, 
Custer  would  have  won  his  fight, 

93 


CHASING  A   MAJOR-GENERAL 

and  to-day  be  a  major-general.  The 
military  moral  of  that  affair  for  young 
soldiers  is  that  when  in  doubt  about 
what  to  do  it  is  always  safe  to  go  in 
and  fight  "  till  you  drop/'  remem- 
bering that,  however  a  citizen  may 
regard  the  proposition,  a  soldier  can- 
not afford  to  be  anything  else  than  a 
"  dead  lion." 

We  were  nearing  the  Crow  Agency 
and  Fort  Custer,  and  it  is  against  all 
my  better  impulses,  and  with  trepi- 
dation at  the  impropriety  of  unveil- 
ing the  truth,  that  I  disclose  the 
fact  that  the  general  would  halt  the 
column  at  a  convenient  distance 
from  a  post,  and  would  then  ex- 
change his  travel-worn  garb  for  glit- 
tering niceties  of  a  major-general's 
uniform.  The  command  then  ad- 
vanced into  the  fort.  The  guns  bel- 
lowed and  the  cavalry  swung  into 
line,  while  numerous  officers  gath- 
ered, in  all  the  perfection  of  neat- 
fitting  uniforms,  to  receive  him.  At 

94 


CHASING  A   MAJOR-GENERAL 

this  time  the  writer  eliminated  him- 
self from  the  ceremonial,  and  from 
some  point  of  vantage  proceeded  to 
pull  up  his  boots  so  as  to  cover  as 
much  as  possible  the  gaping  wounds 
in  his  riding-trousers,  and  tried 
vainly  to  make  a  shooting-jacket  fit 
like  an  officer's  blouse,  while  he 
dealt  his  hat  sundry  thumps  in  a 
vain  endeavor  to  give  it  a  more  rak- 
ish appearance.  He  was  then  in- 
troduced and  apologized  for  in  turn. 
To  this  day  he  hopes  the  mantle  of 
charity  was  broad  enough  to  cover 
his  case. 

What  a  contrast  between  soldiers 
in  field  and  soldiers  in  garrison ! 
Natty  and  trim — as  straight  as  a 
sapling,  with  few  words  and  no  ges- 
tures— quite  unlike  those  of  two 
days,  or  rather  nights,  ago,  when 
the  cold  froze  them  out  of  their 
blankets,  and  they  sat  around  the 
camp-fires  pounding  tin  cans  and 
singing  the  Indian  medicine  song 

95 


CHASING  A   MAJOR-GENERAL 

with  a  good  Irish  accent.  Very 
funny  that  affair — the  mixture  of 
Cheyenne  and  Donnybrook  is  a 
strange  noise. 

The  last  stage  from  Custer  to  the 
railroad  is  thirty-five  miles  and  a 
half,  which  we  did  with  two  relays, 
the  latter  half  of  it  in  the  night. 
There  was  no  escort — only  two  order- 
lies and  the  general — and  I  pattered 
along  through  the  gloom.  The 
clouds  hung  over  the  earth  in  a 
dense  blanket,  and  the  road  was  as 
dim  as  a  Florentine  fresco ;  but  night 
nor  cold  nor  heat  can  bring  General 
Miles  to  a  walk,  and  the  wild  charge 
in  the  dark  was,  as  an  experience,  a 
complete  thing.  You  cannot  see; 
you  whirl  through  a  cafton  cut  in 
the  mud;  you  plough  through  the 
sage-brush  and  over  the  rocks  clatter 
and  bang.  The  general  is  certainly 
a  grim  old  fellow — one  of  the  kind 
that  makes  sparks  fly  when  he  strikes 
an  obstacle.  I  could  well  believe 


CHASING  A   MAJOR-GENERAL 

the  old  Fifth  Infantryman  who  said 
"  he  's  put  many  a  corn  on  a  dough- 
boy 's  foot/'  and  it  's  a  red-letter 
day  for  any  one  else  that  keeps  at 
his  horse's  heels.  You  may  ride 
into  a  hole,  over  a  precipice,  to  per- 
dition, if  it  's  your  luck  on  this 
night,  but  is  not  the  general  in  front  ? 
You  follow  the  general — that  's  the 
grand  idea — that  is  the  military  idea. 
If  the  United  States  army  was  strung 
out  in  line  with  its  general  ahead, 
and  if  he  should  ride  out  into  the 
broad  Atlantic  and  swim  to  sea,  the 
whole  United  States  army  would 
follow  along,  for  that  's  the  idea, 
you  know. 

But  for  the  headlong  plunge  of 
an  orderly,  we  passed  through  all 
right,  with  due  thankfulness  on  my 
part,  and  got  to  our  car  at  the  sid- 
ing, much  to  the  gratification  of  the 
Chicago  colored  man  in  charge, 
who  found  life  at  Custer  Station  a 
horrid  blank.  Two  hundred  and 

97 


CHASING  A   MAJOR-GENERAL 

forty-eight  miles  in  thirty-six  hours 
and  a  half,  and  sixty  miles  of  it  on 
one  horse,  was  not  bad  riding,  con- 
sidering everything.  Not  enough  to 
make  a  man  famous  or  lame,  but 
enough  for  the  time  being. 

THE   END 


98 


LITTLE   BOOKS 
BY   FAMOUS   WRITERS 


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By  James  Lane  Allen 
EPISODES  IN  VAN  BIBBER'S  LIFE 

By  Richard  Harding  Dams 

GOOD  FOR  THE  SOUL 

By  Margaret  Deland 
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COBWEBS  FROM  A  LIBRARY  CORNER 

(Verses)  By  John  Kendrick  Bangs 

THE  WOMAN'S  EXCHANGE 

By  Ruth  McEnery  Stuart 
THE  CAPTURED  DREAM 

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By  Frederic  Remington 

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§• 


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